Someone Else's Life
by Wldwmn
Summary: Jane wakes up from a coma with vivid memories of events that never happened. For one thing, he believes he and Lisbon are married. Jisbon. Rated T for language/adult situations/violence. NOW COMPLETE.
1. One Minute and Two Weeks

**Disclaimer: I don't own "The Mentalist".**

**Summary: Jane wakes up from a coma with vivid memories of events that never happened. For one thing, he believes he and Lisbon are married. Jisbon. Rated T for language/adult situations/violence.**

**A/N: I think I may officially be insane for starting a new chapter fic so close on the heels of finishing one. But this angst-y premise introduced itself and began writing scenes in my head. This first chapter contains brief violence and language.**

**Someone Else's Life**

**Chapter 1: One Minute and Two Weeks**

It only took one minute to change everything.

Five seconds were spent delivering an ultimatum with a bullhorn to a murder suspect who had barricaded himself in his house.

Ten seconds was how long it took for the suspect to ramble insanely and fire a single shot through one of his windows.

It was less than a second from the sound of the shot until the bullet grazed Jane's temple and knocked him out cold. But it was a full five seconds before he dropped to the ground and his head hit the pavement with a sickening crack.

The longest ten seconds of Lisbon's life were the ones when she broke every "standoff situation" protocol rule and aimed carefully at the window from where the shot had come. She then fired her weapon, killing the suspect instantly.

In ten more seconds she had reached Jane where he lay unconscious on the ground. One side of his hair was already drenched with blood as she sat down and placed his head in her lap.

Fifteen seconds later, VanPelt was at the curb with them and mumbling, "Oh my God," over and over again as she dialed 911.

Lisbon took the last five seconds to breathe in deeply before saying "It'll be all right, VanPelt. It's not as bad as it looks. Head wounds always bleed a lot." She was amazed at how calm her own voice sounded. The blood was soaking through the fabric of the jacket she'd pressed against his wound. –Please let it be all right,- she wished in the privacy of her own mind, -I don't know what I'd do without him.-

One minute, and it was all over. But something else had just started.

###

It was six days later, and Jane was lying in a coma in a private hospital room. The team had immediately worked out a rotation so that someone was always there; they wanted to make sure he wouldn't be alone when he woke up. Cho, VanPelt and Rigsby alternated what times they covered, but Lisbon always took the worst hours, the late-night/early-morning section. Cho had offered to trade with her more than once, but she waved him off, saying, "Don't worry about it, I'm not sleeping well anyway."

It was coming to the end of her watch that morning when she began to talk out loud to Jane for the first time. "Why did it have to be you?" she muttered. "I can't even be angry with you about it, you know. You were standing where I asked, and for once you were even wearing a bulletproof vest. But they don't cover our heads, right? So of course that's where he had to shoot you."

She pulled her chair closer to the side of the bed and looked at him. He'd been breathing fine on his own from the beginning, and she was glad of the lack of a respirator tube. Jane looked rough enough without it, frankly, with his head swaddled in bandages and skin unnaturally pale.

She sighed. "You may not be able to hear me, but I want to apologize. I failed you. I've gone over it again and again in my mind and I can't see how I could've done anything different. But I still failed you, which is why you're lying there comatose with a head injury. I just hope you recover. Things wouldn't be the same if you didn't."

Lisbon checked her watch and saw that Cho was due to arrive at any minute. She got up and stretched and made her way towards the door. Before leaving, however, she paused. Without turning around, she made a last comment. "You need to know that I would've taken that bullet for you, Jane. Even if it had killed me." She didn't dare say anything further.

###

Three days came and went.

"Hey, Jane," said Cho as he walked in and sat down. "I bought you the latest issue of **Sudoku Digest**. You can pay me back when you wake up." He watched for any glimmer of reaction in Jane's face, and saw none. He frowned, and reached for his latest novel while sipping his morning coffee.

Reaching the end of the chapter, he closed the book again. "You need to come around soon, Jane. Over a week in a coma is enough rest, even for you," Cho said. He allowed himself a small smile as he thought of Jane's frequent dozes on the couch in the bullpen.

But the serious expression had already returned to his face when he continued, "Lisbon's beating herself up pretty badly over this. As if she was to blame. As if she didn't take out the son of a bitch who shot you, and faster than any sniper I ever saw. But she still acts like it was her fault, and nothing we say will change her mind. She won't listen to us, Jane. But she'd listen to you."

Cho picked up his book again. It was still a few hours before VanPelt was going to relieve him.

###

Three more days flew by.

"Good afternoon, Jane," VanPelt said as she entered the room. "It's been twelve days now, are you sure you won't wake up?" She was trying to speak in a light and teasing tone, but the worry in her voice was unmistakable.

She sat on the edge of the bed for a moment and patted Jane's hand distractedly. "I prayed for you in church last Sunday; don't be offended, okay? I know you don't believe in it, which means it can't do you any harm. But I do believe, so maybe it'll do you some good."

She thought for a long moment before getting up and seating herself in the chair in the corner of the room. "The fact that you're a consultant makes this extra hard on us, do you know that? It's the truth. The rest of the team, we're all cops. We swore to place ourselves in harm's way to protect innocent people, and accepted the possible consequences of that."

She stopped and rubbed her eyes before continuing. "But you… you're sort of a halfway point. Not exactly only a civilian anymore, are you, with the involvement and aid you provide the CBI? But you carry an ID, not a badge. And you didn't sign up to put your life in danger. I think that's why Lisbon is so upset. Well, part of the reason, anyway."

VanPelt pulled out her laptop and set it on the small worktable beside the chair in the corner. She'd decided to get some electronic paperwork done while she was on watch today. She paused once more, however, and glanced at Jane in the bed again. "You just really need to wake up," she whispered.

###

"Man, after two whole weeks, this is getting boring," said Rigsby two days later, in between bites of his evening meal. "Not that I'm saying we're not anxious and missing you. Of course we are. You're annoying and full of yourself sometimes, but you're part of the family."

He was thoughtful as he chewed. Then he said, "But the doctor mentioned to me yesterday that there's a very good chance you're ready to come out of this coma. So I think you should do it sooner rather than later. Stop worrying us sick and get back to work, you know?"

Rigsby considered a desperate attempt on his part to get a reaction. "If you woke up tonight, I could even give you the other half of my meatball sub."

"It does smell good," said Jane in a weak voice.

Rigsby jumped. "Jesus, Jane! Give me a heart attack, why don't you?"

"Sorry, Rigsby, I was waiting for you to finish what you were saying. So can I have the other half now?" Jane asked.

"Um, honestly, I don't even know. I need to find a nurse and your doctor to find out. But I need to find them anyway now that you're awake. And Grace should be here in a few minutes because it's almost time for us to switch off. And I have to call people." Rigsby was talking a mile a minute. He'd never expected to be the one there when Jane came out of his coma.

"While you're finding and talking to everyone, could you call my wife and let her know I'm awake?" Jane asked.

Rigsby could barely breathe to form his next words, but they managed to slip out anyway "Your… wife?" he asked.

"Yes, I'm sure she'd want to know right away. Where is she, anyway?"

Rigsby felt his stomach bottom out. Early on, the team had been warned that Jane might suffer some memory loss or other problems due to the head injury. But he had never even considered that Jane could lose the knowledge of such a pivotal moment of his life.

He felt totally spineless doing it, but the only thing he could think to say was, "I don't know, Jane. I'll go find out." He then practically ran out of the room.

###

Fifteen minutes later, and Rigsby had found the medical staff and called the rest of the team. VanPelt showed up first, of course, since she'd already been on her way there. She immediately went to Rigsby to ask him how Jane was, but paused when she saw how unhappy he looked. "Wayne, what's wrong?"

"Oh, hello Grace," Rigsby said sadly. She saw, as he turned towards her, the shine of unshed tears in his eyes.

"What's wrong?" she asked again. "What happened? All you said was that he's up."

"Grace, he asked me to call his _wife_. He doesn't remember that she's dead. I couldn't even say anything about it, I just said I'd find out where she was and left. I just couldn't bear to tell him," Rigsby said, and VanPelt watched one tear fall.

It still amazed her sometimes that this man who looked like a big tough jock was the same one who had made the most sensitive plea on Jane's behalf once. "It's not about whether we need him; he needs us," he'd said, or words to that effect, with complete conviction and no trace of irony. Now his not-so-secret soft heart was making itself known again, and she couldn't help but respond to it.

VanPelt drew Rigsby in for a quick hug, and said, "I'll do it. I'll go in and talk to him. I can handle it. You wait for Cho and Lisbon, okay?"

He held her tight and whispered. "Thank you, Grace. I know I'm a coward."

"No, you're not. He's your friend, **our** friend. This is always tough, and it's even harder when it's personal. I will do it," VanPelt repeated and pulled away, walking into Jane's room before Rigsby could say another word.

She stood just inside the doorway and looked at Jane. He was still lying down, but his eyes were open and scanning his surroundings rapidly. "Hi, Jane. Do you know me?"

He looked at her and smiled. "Of course, hello Grace. How are you?" he asked.

"I'm fine, what about you? How do you feel? You've been in a coma for two weeks."

"So they tell me. I feel mostly okay, just kind of weak and surprisingly hungry. I'm getting an odd reaction to some of my questions, though. Like there's something no one wants to say. Do you know where my wife is? Did Rigsby tell you that I asked him to call her?"

VanPelt nodded and sat down in the chair next to the bed. "He told me. Jane, do you remember what year it is?"

Jane gave her a funny look. "2011."

"That's right," she said. She took a deep breath and went on. "Do you know who Red John is?"

His eyes narrowed. "Yes," was all he said.

"Jane, your wife passed away years ago. Red John murdered her."

"What?" he said, then blinked and nodded in comprehension. "Oh. No, Grace, I didn't mean… I know that Angela's-" he swallowed deliberately before saying the next word. "-gone."

It was VanPelt's turn to feel lost. "Then I'm sorry, Jane, but I really have no idea who you want Rigsby to call. I'm confused."

Jane frowned deeply and glared; it was the first time he'd ever directed that expression at her. "If this is your idea of a joke, VanPelt, it's not funny. Now, I want a straight answer: _where is Teresa?_ Why won't anyone tell me?"

"Teresa?" VanPelt squeaked, as brief understanding gave way almost immediately to further confusion. She was glad she was already sitting down.

"**Yes**, Grace! My wife, Teresa! Why isn't she here? Is she all right?" Jane asked, his voice getting louder with each word.

Her head was spinning, but her heard herself say. "Teresa's fine, Jane, she wasn't injured. Rigsby called her. She's coming here right now from the other side of town, maybe half an hour away."

"Thank you! Could you ask her to please come to me as soon as she gets here? I don't want to see anybody else until then."

"The doctors might need to examine you-" VanPelt began, but Jane interrupted.

"I said anybody, and I meant anybody. Not until Teresa comes."

"Okay, I'll do what I can. And I'll send her in to you the second she arrives," she promised, and left the room.

Out in the hallway, VanPelt took out her phone and quickly hit the speed-dial for Lisbon's cell. It only rang once before it clicked through and she heard a terse "Lisbon."

"Hi Boss, it's me."

"VanPelt, I know Jane's awake; Rigsby already told me and I'm on my way. I should be there in about twenty minutes. You didn't need to call me."

"Actually yes, I really did. There's something else you need to know before you come here and go to see him."

"What is it?" Lisbon asked, and VanPelt could hear the clenched concern in her voice, even through the phone. "What's wrong?"

VanPelt sighed before answering. "Boss, we have a serious problem."

**To Be Continued…**


	2. Intersecting, Not Matching

**Disclaimer: No own Mentalist. Please don't sue.**

**A/N: Thank you all so much for your awesome and encouraging reviews; you're so nice and helpful! Here in chapter 2 we have: Lisbon's reactions, further activity in the hospital, and everyone trying to figure out what on EARTH is going on in Jane's head.**

**Someone Else's Life**

**Chapter 2: Intersecting, Not Matching**

"He thinks I'm his **wife**?" Lisbon screeched at the speakerphone as she continued to drive to the hospital. Van Pelt had just dropped that bombshell a second earlier.

"Yes, Boss, and I didn't even try to tell him otherwise. He was already very upset. At first when he asked about his wife, Rigsby and I thought he meant… well, it turned out he didn't lose any memories of _that._"

"Jane thinks I'm his wife," Lisbon repeated, as if she hadn't actually registered anything Van Pelt had just said.

"Um, yeah, Boss. When you get here, do you think we should talk to the staff psychiatrist about it before going to see him? I honestly wouldn't even know where to begin with this," Van Pelt replied. She was pacing in the hallway outside Jane's room.

"I'm not sure. He may be faking. It would be just like Jane to mess with us like this, knowing we're all still on edge from him being in real danger."

"Boss, I don't know. He seemed sort of… uncontrolled, I guess is the word. He's usually so smooth when he's conning us."

"He'd know how to act in this situation. He'd know how to pretend. But he did suffer a head injury; we know he didn't fake that. So this could be for real… and he won't see anybody else until I get there?" Lisbon asked.

"That's what he said to me. Not even doctors, so obviously he's not making any friends since he woke up," Van Pelt answered with a frown.

"As usual. All right, I'm getting on the highway. You know what, yes, get in touch with the psychiatrist. I should be there in ten more minutes or so, Van Pelt. Goodbye."

"See you soon, Boss."

Lisbon reached out and tapped her phone to end the call.

###

Lisbon pulled into the hospital parking lot. She turned the engine off and took a deep breath. "I almost hope he's joking," she muttered to herself. "How are we going to deal with this if he's not?"

She got out of her SUV and walked towards the entrance. Once inside, she made her way through the sparsely furnished lobby towards the reception desk. The woman behind it was unfamiliar, which made Lisbon cringe. After spending so much time at the hospital in the past two weeks, she was getting tired of having to explain the situation over and over. Sighing quietly, she stopped in front and began "Hi, my name is Teresa-" but that was as far as she got.

A passing nurse stopped suddenly and practically latched onto Lisbon's arm. "You're Teresa? Are you here to see Patrick Jane?"

"Yes, I am," said Lisbon, giving the nurse a confused look.

"Oh thank goodness. **Thank. Goodness.** Katie," the nurse said as she turned to the woman behind the reception desk, "This is the wife of Room 419. For heaven's sake, write her up a visitor's pass quick!"

As the woman behind the counter nodded and quickly scribbled out a visitor's card, the nurse never once let go of Lisbon's arm. Lisbon tried tugging subtly while eyeballing her, but her hand didn't budge. The woman was middle-aged and plump, and probably quite pretty when she smiled. Currently, however, she looked a bit harried.

When the card was finished, the nurse grabbed it, quickly pinned it to Lisbon's coat, and set off at a furious pace practically dragging Lisbon behind her.

"I'm Sylvia," said the nurse, "And let me tell you, Mrs. Jane, your husband is a real handful. How you manage him I'll never know."

"He's not-" Lisbon started, but Sylvia just kept chattering as they made their way to the elevator.

"You know he's only been out of his coma for a little over an hour, and already half the nursing staff on duty is avoiding the fourth floor altogether? I can't remember the last time I had to deal with someone this difficult, and I've been a nurse for twenty-five years."

"I'm sorry," Lisbon said, feeling that this was the only safe comment she could make after that statement. They entered the elevator and pushed the button. "But it's not-"

"Oh I know it's not your fault, honey," Sylvia said. "_Men_. They're like children, aren't they? They get sick and start whining for the woman in their life. I should know; one husband and four sons have been doing it to me for years. I'm sure he'll shape up a bit once you get there."

Lisbon had to laugh at that. "I'm not so sure about that, Sylvia. He doesn't always listen to me."

Sylvia laughed too. "He'll learn," she said with a smile as the doors to the elevator opened onto the fourth floor.

They walked to Jane's room. Lisbon saw that she was the last to arrive; Cho, Rigsby and Van Pelt were all gathered in the hallway speaking in hushed tones. There was also a slender, brunette woman slightly off to the side that she didn't recognize and Dr. Mendez, the neurologist that had been working with Jane, was standing beside her.

"Here you are, Teresa," Sylvia said as she finally let go of Lisbon's arm. "I've got to start rounds myself, but you get in there and wrangle that man of yours."

Lisbon rolled her eyes, but only said, "Will do, thanks," as she watched the nurse walk off.

When Lisbon went to join the team, Cho spoke up first. "Hey, Boss. I know Van Pelt filled you in over the phone. I just got the rundown a few minutes ago. How do you want to handle this?"

"I'm still not sure. Is the psychiatrist here?"

"Yes," said Rigsby. "Name's Dr. Solomon. She's the one over there with the neurologist."

"Okay," said Lisbon. "We're all going to discuss this together before I go in there. I want to hear what they think is the best thing for Jane at this point." She looked over and raised her voice slightly. "Doctors? Could we combine these two conversations?"

"Certainly," Dr. Solomon said. Dr. Mendez nodded, and they both walked over to stand near the team.

"I guess I'll start by asking how much you know about the situation, Dr. Solomon," Lisbon said.

Dr. Solomon gathered her thoughts for a second, and then said, "Agent Van Pelt informed me that Mr. Jane woke up from his coma seemingly with all of his memories intact. In addition, he appears to believe the two of you are married, and I take it you are actually not."

"That's correct. We're not involved romantically. I don't know where this came from, to tell you the truth."

"Well, Agent Lisbon, false memories may not be as common as missing ones in head trauma cases, but they are far from unheard of. The key is finding out how much damage that challenging them will cause, which is impossible for me to determine without speaking to him. And I've been told already that he refuses to see anyone before he sees you."

"Yeah, he was really insistent about that," Van Pelt added.

"Okay, I'm willing to go in there first, but I need to know how to approach him," Lisbon said. "How do I tell him we're not married?"

"I'm not sure that you should, immediately," said the psychiatrist.

"What?" sputtered Lisbon.

"Agent, we don't know medically or psychologically where his mind stands at the moment. It may be safer to go along with his delusion until we discover the cause and can work to remedy it."

"That sounds like a terrible idea!" snapped Rigsby. "Lying to someone to make them feel better usually goes bad later."

"Plus, Jane always knows when someone is lying to him. Always. I don't think even head trauma would erase that," added Cho.

"He may ignore the signs of deception because the lie is one he believes, or at least wishes to believe, is true," said Dr. Solomon.

"Frankly, I don't want his physical health to take any further strain," said Dr. Mendez, speaking up for the first time. "If Dr. Solomon says that going along with Mr. Jane's false memory is the safest course at this time, I have to support her."

"Wouldn't the shock of finding out the truth later cause terrible strain?" asked Van Pelt. "That just seems backwards."

"No, I won't do it," said Lisbon. The rest of the group stopped discussing and stared at her. "I will be as kind and understanding as I know how, but I will not lie to him. Jane has gone through enough; I refuse to put him in a position where he'll end up feeling like he can't trust us. I'm telling him the truth."

"This is against my advice, Agent," said Dr. Solomon.

"Noted. Now give me an idea how to tell him," said Lisbon shortly.

The psychiatrist took a deep breath. "Okay. Go as gently as you can with him. Try to present evidence to him that he can't automatically explain away. Later, try to coax him to tell you the extent of his false memories, so you'll be able to get an idea of how deep and far back they go. If he has simply added a marriage into the rest of his life, there may not be too many differences. His false memory and our reality will intersect, just not match."

Lisbon sighed. "Will his memory eventually return to normal, doctor?"

"I can't say at this point. You need to go in there, make contact with him, and convince him to let himself be professionally examined. After that, I'll have a far more accurate picture and a better chance of an answer to that question."

"All right, then I'm going in right now. I'll try to keep it fairly short at first, but I don't know how long it'll take."

"It takes as long as it takes, Boss," said Cho. "None of us are going anywhere."

"Please remind him that we're trying to help, Agent Lisbon," added Dr. Mendez. "He truly has been incredibly hard to deal with."

Lisbon nodded, took a few steps, and pushed open the door.

The lights in the room had dimmed, but they brightened again in response to her movement. Jane had adjusted his bed to a sitting-up position, but his head was leaned back and his eyes were closed. Still, it was obvious that he was just resting, not sleeping. She shook her head slightly, and said out loud, "You really are the worst patient in the world."

His eyes snapped open immediately at the sound of her voice, and he grinned. Lisbon gasped slightly; the expression he now wore was amazingly affectionate. It wasn't exactly unfamiliar, but so much more intense than any he'd ever given her before. "Teresa," he said, "Finally, you're here. I'm so glad to see you. They kept trying to poke and prod me, but I said I wouldn't let them until I saw my wife."

"Oh, I **know** you did. I've already had to hear complaints from the staff."

"Meh, all I did was scare away a few nurses. There was a pleasant one, though; Sylvia, I believe her name was. She's the only one who came more than once."

"I met her. She said you're being a huge pain and I should reign you in."

"Did you laugh?"

"Yes."

Jane shifted over in his bed to leave extra room on one side. "Come here, Teresa, come over to me. Don't stay there on the other side of the room."

Lisbon hesitated a second, but then walked over and sat down carefully on the bed. Jane immediately pulled her into a tight embrace; she could almost feel her ribs creak. "I know you're not much for sudden hugs, sweetheart, but indulge me on this," he said as he felt her tense up in his arms. "I was so worried. I wake up and you're not here, and everyone's whispering and looking at me funny. No one would tell me where you were, or even if you were okay at first."

Lisbon forced herself to relax as much as she could. "I know, and I'm sorry you got so worried, but nobody was trying to upset you. The doctors were trying to help, and Rigsby and Van Pelt were just confused, Jane."

"Jane?" he said, pulling back slightly and wrinkling his nose. "You haven't called me 'Jane' in years, since before we were married."

Lisbon winced, and put some distance between them. "I know this is going to be hard for you to believe, Jane, but-"

"Wait a minute, where's your wedding ring, Teresa?" he interrupted, picking up her left hand. "You _never_ take that ring off. You **shower** in it, for goodness' sake! Did someone take it?"

Lisbon watched his face closely, looking for any sign at all that he might be playing a trick. But he seemed frustratingly genuine. She wasn't happy at all about having to explain this. "Jane, I want you to be quiet for a minute and look at me. Watch me closely. This is very hard to say, but I'm going to do it anyway because I won't lie to you." She paused and took a deep, shaky breath.

"That doesn't sound good," said Jane. "But you're right. Tell me anyway."

"The reason I'm not wearing a wedding ring… is that you and I aren't married. I know you're sure we are, but look at me," she repeated as she pulled her hand out of his grasp. "Am I lying to you?"

He looked at her face closely, and she watched the emotions in his eyes shift through surprise, confusion, irritation, and a number of others before settling back on confusion. "You don't seem to be," he answered finally. "But that can't be true. Why am _I_ wearing a wedding ring, then?"

Lisbon felt herself getting choked up, but wouldn't let any tears fall. "Take off the ring and look at it. That's the ring from your marriage to Angela, Jane. Look at the initials inscribed inside." She watched him do it.

"This makes no sense," he said, shaking his head. "I don't wear this ring anymore. I took it off the day we told the team we were together. It should be in the wooden tray on top of the dresser. I never wear it! Why do I have it on now?"

Lisbon could hear panic edging into his voice, and she took his hand again. He seemed more relaxed when they were touching. "Please try to calm down, Jane. I know this is confusing and even a little frightening, but I swear I'm telling you the truth. Some of what you think has happened is actually a false memory. I talked to the psychiatrist here and she said it happens sometimes."

"The psychiatrist? Now you think I'm crazy?" he said angrily.

"Of course not. I'm thankful you're awake again; the last two weeks have really scared us. And yes, I'm a little worried that you're so sure about something I know never happened. But I don't think you're crazy."

"Can't we just go home? I hate hospitals. They should let me go now that I'm awake, shouldn't they?" Jane asked in a pleading tone, obviously desperate to change the subject.

"I'm sorry, but the doctors need to examine you further. They need to run tests to make sure you're okay to leave. And with this bit of confusion… well, the psychiatrist wants to talk to you, too."

"No. Not happening. I can't stand them, Teresa, you know I can't."

"I know you've heard it before, but she only wants to help. Once she can figure out where this came from, there might be a clear path to take towards getting your real memories back."

"You're acting like I'm thinking I have a black car instead of a blue one, or that I'm in Chicago instead of Sacramento. This is not a couple minor details of my life!" he argued. "I _remember_ getting together and getting married! How can it not be real?"

This time a few tears fell before she could stop them. "I don't know, okay? But there's no point in getting angry with me. Would you rather I had just gone along with this, even though it isn't true?" she asked. "Because that was an option, but I didn't take it. I never wanted you to feel like you couldn't depend on me to be honest."

He pulled her back into his arms and sighed. "Please don't cry, Teresa. I'm sorry. I know I shouldn't take this out on you, and I'm sorry. You're right; I'd never want you to lie to me. I'm just… this is so strange! I feel like I woke up in someone else's life. And it's not a trade up, if you gather my meaning."

"I think I do. Will you please let the doctors look at you now? They're just outside in the hall," Lisbon said.

Jane shook his head. "I still don't want to. I'm completely wound up, and this is too much to process."

"The sooner you let them do what they have to, the sooner they'll leave. Then I'll come back in and we can talk some more. We can talk all night, if you want; I'm not going anywhere," Lisbon said with a small smile.

"Do you promise?" he asked, suddenly sounding anxious in a way that was so foreign to his usual demeanor. He still hadn't let go of her.

"Of course," she answered immediately, and squeezed him back for a second. "But first you'll have to let me go tell them."

He let out a small laugh as his arms dropped back to his sides. "Go on, then. As soon as they leave, though, you come right back to me. I mean it."

"I will," Lisbon said as she stood up and crossed the room. She looked back at him over her shoulder and tried to smile encouragingly before leaving the room.

As soon as she closed the door behind her, Lisbon turned towards the team and the two doctors waiting outside in the hall. She took in their questioning expressions and said the first thing that came to mind.

"Well, at this point I don't think he's faking it."

**TBC… next chapter, Jane takes Lisbon on a trip down (false) memory lane.**


	3. What Might Have Been

**Disclaimer: "Me" does not equal "Bruno Heller".**

**A/N: In this installment, Jane clearly is still having trouble dismissing his memories. Maybe sharing them with Lisbon will help give them both some perspective. This chapter contains a few references to adult activities in a non-explicit but unambiguous manner (i.e. no smut but no doubt as to what happened).**

**Someone Else's Life**

**Chapter 3: What Might Have Been**

Lisbon and the team sat in the hall and continued talking quietly as the doctors worked in Jane's room. Lisbon winced as she heard periodic angry outbursts from Jane coming through the door. –And they were worried that **I** would upset him too much?- she thought irritably. Glances at the three faces around her told her they were all thinking the exact same thing.

Rigsby yawned suddenly. "Oh man, what time is it?" he asked, not even bothering to check his own watch.

"Near one in the morning," said Cho. "Do we have any idea how much longer they're going to be in there with him?"

"No," Van Pelt said glumly. "But I don't want to leave before we find out what they have to say."

"They shouldn't be much longer," Lisbon said. "It's already been over two hours."

As if on cue, the door opened and the two doctors emerged.

###

Lisbon said goodnight to Cho and rubbed her eyes. Rigsby and Van Pelt had already left, and she was about to go back into Jane's room. She checked her phone; it was one-thirty already. She was tired, but too aggravated to sleep. Just as well, really, since she'd promised to talk some more with Jane.

She gritted her teeth as she remembered some of the things the psychiatrist had said when she'd come back. The scolding about how upset Jane was now, with the unspoken undercurrent of "It's your fault because you told him the truth", was particularly annoying to Lisbon. She'd wanted to snap "He's upset because _you're making him upset_ with your psychobabble", but had bit her tongue. They still needed this doctor; there was no use stepping on her feet. Even if she hadn't been that helpful so far, and _still_ had no idea if and when Jane's memory would return to normal.

She sighed deeply as she re-entered the room, but was thankful yet again that they'd gotten Jane a private space. Keeping someone else awake would've been the last thing she wanted to worry about at this point. "Hi, Jane," she said softly.

"Hello, sweetheart. I'm glad you came back. That whole business was extremely tiring," Jane said as he turned his head to look at her. She noticed his weary expression, and that his eyes were very red, but didn't comment. She also didn't mention his use of the term "sweetheart" for her.

Instead she just said, "I bet it was, and I'm very sorry. I had no idea they were going to grill you for multiple hours."

"It's not your fault, Teresa. But it's one of the reasons I detest those wretched people; the only time they respect is their own. It may be uncharitable of me, but I don't really care at the moment."

"For once, I don't blame you," said Lisbon. She quickly added, "But if you tell anyone I said that, I'll deny it."

"Of course. My lips are sealed," Jane said, dropping her a wink. "Are you going to keep standing in the corner, or sit down and stay awhile?"

She smiled, and went to sit down on the bed again. He reached out for her hand automatically, and then she watched him hesitate as reality shifted back in his mind. Lisbon shook her head, and took his hand in hers. "It's okay," she said. "If it makes you feel better, I don't mind."

"Thank you," he said. "So, you aren't my wife. We're not married."

"That's right," she replied.

"And we don't love each other," he went on. It was half a statement, half a question.

Lisbon paused. -No lying,- she thought. "That one's a little harder to answer. I mean, we're friends. We're fond of each other, somewhat. And there have definitely been moments when… well, the fact is that we've never made any declarations, Jane. So I guess that means-"

"That we **do** love each other, but neither of us has done anything about it," he finished.

Lisbon tried to keep her face carefully impassive, but she could tell he was reading her. "I didn't say that. I'm not admitting to anything."

He continued scanning her face. "You don't have to. I can tell," he eventually said, and grinned at her.

She rolled her eyes. "You said you were tired. Do you still want to talk, or would you rather sleep?" she asked, trying to sidestep the rest of this line of questioning.

"I slept for two weeks, Teresa, so I'm exhausted but not sleepy. Let's talk, like you said before."

"Okay, as long as you're sure," Lisbon said. She took a deep breath, and exhaled slowly. "I'm kind of at a loss, here. I don't where to start, Jane."

"If I can ask one favor, could you start by calling me Patrick? I guess it's left over from my coma dreaming, but I'd feel better if you did."

She shrugged. "That doesn't seem like too much to ask… Patrick."

"So where should _I_ start?" he asked her with a smile.

"From the beginning, the day we met if you want. Because honestly, I'd like to know at exactly what point the differences begin."

###

Lisbon listened as Jane started telling her what was, essentially, the story of her life since they'd met. For a long time, everything was pretty much as she remembered it. Of course most of it was told with some additional flair, courtesy of Jane's personal opinions and observations.

She laughed a lot, both at things that had always been funny and events that hadn't been funny at all when they'd happened. She even got a bit emotional at a few moments in his story; the memories were a little difficult, but he reassured her that she'd held it together beautifully at the time.

The major shift occurred when he got to the period when he'd been struck temporarily blind by an explosion. –Fitting,- Lisbon thought, -Here we are, back in the hospital with Jane as a terrible patient, and that's where his story departs from what I recall.-

Most of the differences were subtle, until he reached the point when he finally took the bandages off and could see again.

"So I opened my eyes, and everything was blurry but at least I could _see_ a blur. Then as I blinked and kept looking, you swam into focus standing in front of me. And I couldn't help smiling."

"I remember that, Patrick. I was smiling, too, relieved to know for sure that the damage wasn't permanent. Of course, you had to go and ruin the moment in the following fifteen seconds," Lisbon said.

"Really? As I remember it, I said 'You have no idea how good it is to see your face. You're the most beautiful thing I've ever seen.' How is that ruining the moment?" Jane asked.

"Whoa, whoa! That's not what you said. Well the first part is, but then you called me Rigsby to mess with my head! You made a wiseass remark, not a cute compliment," she argued.

"_That's_ what I said? Oh, Teresa," Jane said, and started to laugh in disbelief. "Oh my dear, no wonder we aren't married. I'm an idiot here."

"Here?" Lisbon asked in confusion. "As opposed to where?"

"Oh, it's just a little theory I considered while the psychiatrist was yammering at me," he explained. "I thought that maybe I'm in an alternate reality to the one I came from. It would make sense why so many things are exactly the same but a few things are totally off. It's a real shame that I don't believe in that stuff; it would be a great alternative to unfortunate brain damage."

"I suppose, although I don't really believe in it either. In fact, I'm glad it's almost certainly not the case," she said.

"Why is that?"

She looked away, feeling slightly guilty. "A purely selfish reason, actually. Because if that was true, and you're here, then somewhere else there's a Lisbon who's miserable because her husband has been replaced with a Jane who doesn't love her."

He had to smile at that, albeit a little sadly. And he couldn't resist patting Lisbon's cheek softly when he said, "Believe me, Teresa: if he's me, then he loves her. And they'd work it out."

She squeezed his hand gently, then said, "So then what happened? After you told me how beautiful I am, I mean."

"Oh, the usual. We kissed, I asked you to dinner, we had a nice time, I took you home, and," he trailed off with a wave of his hand.

"Oh you are **so** not getting away with that. And what?" she pressed.

"And, well, we made love until the next morning," he said after a moment.

Lisbon felt her cheeks burning as she blushed furiously. In an attempt to cover her embarrassment, she decided to tease him a little. "Why Patrick Jane, I had no idea you were such a pushover! I mean, letting me have my wicked way with you after only one date?"

Jane chuckled, and seemed happy to play along. "Can you really blame me? The food was good, the wine was excellent, you were devastatingly charming and you told me you loved me. How was I supposed to withstand such an assault?"

Lisbon shook her head. "Put in those terms, I can't fault you for it. You're only human, after all." She laughed for a moment, and then went quiet. "It didn't happen, but it's like your brain gave you a romantic ending you could be happy about, with no guilt. It's almost sweet in a way."

"Yes, sweet. And apparently, even though I remember it clearly, just a fantasy," Jane said, and frowned.

"I'm sorry, J… Patrick. I thought going over your memories might help. Actually, the doctor thought it might help and I agreed. But we can stop; I don't want to make you feel worse. This is hard enough on you."

"No, no, you're right. It _is_ difficult, but I've got to hear what actually happened, right? I can't just keep believing in all of this false memory, but what else can I do unless I find out the real version?"

"I know," Lisbon said, sighing unhappily. "All right. Keep on going in order; what happened after that?"

###

Lisbon wasn't sure how much time had passed, but she knew he wanted to continue talking. "You said earlier, when we were talking about your ring, that you remember telling the team about us. When did that happen?" she asked. This was a question she'd had since he'd first mentioned it.

"The day after I shot and killed Sheriff Hardy. That actually happened, didn't it?" he asked.

She nodded. "Yes, that was real."

"Well, when we both showed up to work in the same clothes we'd been wearing the previous day, Van Pelt got suspicious immediately. She started muttering to Cho and Rigsby, so we finally decided to just tell them. They weren't really that surprised."

"Hold on; why were we wearing the same clothes as the day before?" she asked.

"Because we'd spent the night in a motel."

Lisbon's eyebrows just about touched her hairline. "My _goodness_. Kind of a naughty imaginary relationship we have there, Patrick."

"Actually, that wasn't the main reason. Not to say there wasn't a rather… frantic interlude that had as much to do with reassuring myself that the woman I loved was still alive as it did with lusty desire."

"Understandable. What was the reason, then?"

"I'd never killed anyone before. I was… a bit out of it. You remembered what it was like the first time you had to do it, so you made sure I wasn't alone. Your apartment was too far away; otherwise we would have gone there, most likely. We talked most of the night, like we're doing now."

"Did it help?" Lisbon asked.

"Yes. You were very kind and comforting. When I said 'I had to do it. He was going to kill you. I did the right thing,' you told me 'Yes, you did.' And when I asked 'Then why does it hurt so much?' you held me tight and said it would all be okay, that I'd get through it and you'd help me. There may have been some crying on my part, too, but you made it bearable."

Lisbon ran one hand through her hair, pushing it out of her face. "That sounds a lot better than what actually happened."

"Which was?"

"I spent the night very deliberately not crawling into a bottle. And I have no idea what you did; I didn't see you again until the next morning when we took the girl Maya back to her family."

"You're right, my brain's story _was_ better. That sounds lonely and awful."

"I never complained, or even mentioned it, but yes it was," she agreed.

Jane was quiet for a moment. Then he said, "I just realized I have no idea what I'm going to do when I get out of here. If we're not married, then I'm totally unclear on any life I might have outside the CBI. I have no clue where I even live." The anxiety had returned to his voice.

Lisbon squeezed his hand again to comfort him. "We'll worry about that when the time comes, okay? But you should know that I wouldn't abandon you. If you need my help or Rigsby's help or anyone on the team, we'll give it. Even when you feel lost, you won't be alone. You just can't shut us out," she said.

"That sounds reasonable to me. Could I hold you again, Teresa, just for a minute? I know it's not something you're thrilled with, given your reactions earlier, but-"

"Yes. It's all right. This is overwhelming for you, and despite my 'reactions earlier' I honestly don't mind that much," Lisbon said, and shifted closer to Jane on the bed.

He reached out and pulled her into his arms, and this time she felt relaxed being there. She'd had occasional tender impulses toward Jane in the past, especially when he was hurting, but had never felt free to act on them for a number of reasons. Not the least of which being that she'd felt completely unsure as to how he would react. Would he have accepted it? But his hold on her right now was warm and comfortable, so she just sat there and stroked his back gently. She felt him shift slightly and turn his head, before she felt him nuzzle her hair.

She laughed very softly; who would have thought Jane was so cuddly? She let him linger for a little bit longer, but then she gently pulled back again. "So go on, Patrick; I know there's more. Tell me about how you proposed, when we got married, and where we went on our honeymoon. I want to hear the whole story," she said.

"Why bother?" asked Jane, sounding somewhat dejected. "None of it's real."

"Actually, most of it is. And I do want to help you. I'm willing to help you sift out all the things that aren't real, if you'll let me," answered Lisbon, and smiled at him again.

He gratefully smiled back. "Okay, where did I leave off?"

###

They talked all night.

Every time something in Jane's memory didn't match up with what Lisbon had lived through, she'd relate the real version as soon as he finished. She could tell he believed that she was telling the truth, no matter how vivid the false memories were.

He never once let go of her hand.

Sometimes his thumb would stroke absentmindedly over the place where her wedding band would have been, if his memories were all true. She could see the momentary frown every time it happened, as if a part of him was still upset that it wasn't there.

He finished telling her everything just before dawn.

**TBC…**


	4. Plans and Actions

**Disclaimer: Bruno Heller and I are both Jane/Lisbon shippers, but that's the only thing we have in common. I own nothing!**

**A/N: Thank you again for so many nice reviews! To recap: last chapter we heard some highlights from Jane's mistaken memory. Now, Lisbon considers what should be done once Jane is released from the hospital. And Jane says something slightly mysterious towards the end. This chapter contains brief language.**

**Someone Else's Life**

**Chapter 4: Plans and Actions**

Cho came back to the hospital at noon that day. He had a feeling that Lisbon had stayed there all night with Jane, so he told Van Pelt and Rigsby that he would go and relieve her.

Pushing open the door to Jane's room, Cho wondered why it was so dark. He quickly figured out that the lights had been dimmed as far as possible, without shutting them off, and that the blinds were drawn shut. Once his eyes adjusted, he was able to see much more clearly. It was then that he noticed the two sleeping figures on the hospital bed.

Lisbon was sitting up, head propped by a pillow, and Jane was cuddled close against her side. One of her arms was behind his neck, her fingers threaded through the hair on the uninjured side of his head. Her other hand was resting over one of his that gripped the edge of her jacket tightly. His other arm was curled around behind her waist, and his head lolled on her shoulder.

Cho took in the scene for a moment, and tried not to smile. It wasn't that difficult; he was used to maintaining his composure in most situations. But this was almost too sweet to be believed: his ironclad boss and the irreverent consultant, sleeping curled up and affectionately holding each other? They were just lucky _he_ had found them, and not someone who would've been giggling and teasing them about it for the rest of the day.

He considered for a moment the best way to wake Lisbon up. He definitely didn't want to startle her, so tapping or shaking her was out. He eventually decided to simply open the blinds; the light would shine in her face but not Jane's, so she wouldn't give him a hard time about that.

The sunlight streaming in on Lisbon's face woke her gently. She blinked for a minute, and then her eyes cleared and she saw Cho by the window. He waved but didn't speak. She was suddenly and acutely aware of the position she was in, and her face flushed a bit. She held a finger up to her lips then pointed to the door, indicating she'd get up and they'd talk outside.

She slowly started to remove herself from Jane's arms, but he immediately scowled in his sleep, murmuring "No, no" and clutching her tighter. Cho covered his mouth to keep from chuckling, but was stunned into silence by what Lisbon did next.

She stroked Jane's hair softly, then carefully leaned her head closer to his and whispered, "Shh, it's alright, Patrick. You don't have to wake up," in the most tender tone Cho had ever heard her use. He watched as Jane slowly relaxed again, and Lisbon finally extricated herself. She nodded at Cho, and they walked quietly out into the hall.

"Before you say a word," Lisbon said quickly once they sat down, "That scene in there wasn't what it looked like. Jane and I were up talking until dawn, and he was exhausted but still couldn't fall asleep. I thought maybe staying with him until he dropped off would make him feel better, but I guess I was more tired than I thought and-"

"Boss," Cho finally interrupted, shaking his head and holding up a hand. "You don't need to explain anything. Seriously." He watched her exhale slowly in relief, then asked her, "How is he?"

Lisbon sighed. "Not great, to tell you the truth. He's tired, confused, upset, frightened… the list goes on. We went over his memories last night, and while most of it is near exactly as I remember, there are chunks that his mind just created."

"So he's not just a little confused? He's actually made up a whole alternate life that includes you being married to each other?"

She pinched the bridge of her nose for a moment before continuing. "That's how it seems. And it's not all little things either; some of it's very detailed. Not only did we get married in this extended fantasy, but we also had a complicated two-week honeymoon. He described it pretty vividly; apparently, we spent one week touring the castles of Ireland, and the second week diving in the Galapagos."

"Wow, sounds nice," Cho stated flatly after a moment. He didn't know what else to say.

"Oh, _yes_, it sounds pretty much perfect. Beautiful, exciting, romantic, but completely unreal! Where did it all come from, is what I want to know," Lisbon continued. "I guess I've always gotten the impression that Jane looked at us as having more of a sibling type relationship than anything else."

"Sorry to break it to you, boss, but that's not even slightly convincing. I mean, you have three brothers, right? Have any of them ever bought you expensive jewelry, or given you flowers, or borrowed a fancy sports car just to take you out to lunch? Nobody thinks he acts like a brother towards you, except possibly for the 'annoying you every single day' part," Cho said, and waited for what would most likely be Lisbon's angry reply.

She glared at him for a moment, but shook her head before answering. "Maybe you're right. Maybe I told myself that to keep things from getting more complicated than they already were. I guess it doesn't really matter that much at this point, though, because what's going on now is what we have to deal with."

"Right," said Cho. "What needs to be taken care of first?"

Lisbon shrugged. "Telling him was the very first thing, and I've done that. I know he believes that I'm telling the truth. What I'm not sure about, however, is whether he's connected that with actually accepting what he remembers as only a dream. That will probably take more time."

"Okay, and until then?"

"Until then, we have to find out how much longer he needs to stay in the hospital. And _then_ we have to see if he's able to stay on his own when he leaves."

"Is it likely that he won't be?" he asked.

"You heard the psychiatrist last night," Lisbon said. "She was convinced he'd need someone living with him for a while even after he's pronounced ready to be discharged."

"Do any of us know exactly where he lives now?"

"Not really, including him at the moment," Lisbon said. She sighed again. "If it ends up being necessary, I'd probably take him to my apartment to live with me. I have a spare bedroom, and he's been there once before so it shouldn't be too unfamiliar to him."

She neglected to mention that Jane's dream had included them living together at her apartment. She didn't have to, as it turned out, because Cho was already thinking along those lines. He frowned. "That sounds… odd, boss. Isn't he going to keep feeling like you're married because you're living in the same place? And could you stand living with him?"

"Cho, if you have a better idea I'm open to suggestions, believe me!" Lisbon snapped. "I don't want to do anything that will make his recovery slower, either, but what are our real options here?" She then rubbed her eyes and grimaced. "That came out harsher than I meant it, and I'm sorry. I haven't had much sleep; I could use a bit more."

"That's why I came in the first place," Cho said. "Why don't you go home and get some rest? I'll go in and sit with Jane."

"I would, but what if he wakes up and I'm not here? He'll probably get all worked up and impossible again."

Cho tried not to smile for the second time. "I'm sure he understands that you can't be here with him all the time. I'll find a way to calm him down if I have to."

Lisbon nodded. "Okay, but if there's a serious problem, call me and I'll come right back."

"I will, I promise."

"Thanks, Cho. I'll call later, all right?"

"No problem, boss. Talk to you then."

###

Cho sat quietly reading his book for the next two hours. He would periodically glance up at Jane, but never saw him doing anything but sleeping peacefully. At least, until Cho's phone went off, alerting him of a text message.

While Cho silently berated himself for forgetting to switch it to vibrate, Jane turned over and raised a hand. "Switch that off, Teresa, would you? Why'd you set the alarm, sweetheart?" he mumbled, waving vaguely in the direction of the noise. Cho rolled his eyes. No need to wonder what Jane was (still) dreaming about. –Sibling type relationship, my ass,- Cho thought.

At three o'clock, Jane stirred. His hand immediately reached over and started patting the side of the bed, and his forehead furrowed when it came up empty. His eyes fluttered open, and he blinked rapidly and squinted in the brightness of the afternoon sunshine. "Where the hell am I?" he grumbled, in a voice still rough from sleep.

"Still in the hospital, Jane," said Cho, marking his place before setting his novel aside. "You woke up from your coma yesterday, but they didn't release you. Do you remember?"

"Ah, yes. Yes, I remember. And I was finally able to go to sleep this morning, but only when my wi- when Teresa settled down here with me. Where is she, Cho?"

"The boss went home to sleep, Jane. She's fine, just worn out, like you were. We talked for a bit, then she went back to her place and I came in here."

"Did she mention the conversation she and I had most of the night?" said Jane, looking a little embarrassed for probably the first time Cho had ever seen.

"In passing," Cho admitted. "Nothing dirty, if that's what you're wondering about. Just that you had a bunch of stories that weren't the same as what the rest of us remember."

"Yes, that's about the extent of it. Hard to believe none of it was real."

"It'll be okay, once you're well enough to get out of here and live in the world again. Your real memory will probably return, and then life goes back to normal."

"And what if it doesn't?" Jane asked.

Cho shrugged. "Then we deal with it."

###

Back at her apartment, Lisbon slept for a few hours, and then woke up in the middle of the afternoon. She hadn't even bothered to change out of her clothes, and she felt grungy and uncomfortable. She decided a shower was in order before anything else.

Afterwards, wrapped in her dark green towel and distractedly combing her hair, she wandered into her infrequently used guest room. –I'm going to have to get this place ready if Jane ends up coming to stay with me,- she thought.

The room was fairly clean, but dusty, and a number of things were stored in there that would need to be shifted into other areas. Still, it was suitable; it had a nice window and a good-sized closet. The bed needed attending, she noticed with a frown. Sheets laundered, mattress flipped, etc. She sighed. Jane wasn't even out of the hospital and coming here for sure yet, and already he was causing her more trouble.

She got dressed, then called Cho. "Hey, boss," he said when he picked up.

"Hey Cho. How's it going there?"

"Just fine. Rigsby is coming in about half an hour to switch off with me."

"Is Jane awake?"

"Yes, and he's been asking about you. A lot," Cho added.

Lisbon huffed. "I'll talk to him. You want to put him on?"

"Sure," said Cho, and he passed the phone to Jane.

"Hello, Teresa," Jane said.

"Hi, Patrick. How are you feeling now?"

"Better, but still a bit odd, and the food here is ghastly. Are you coming back tonight?" he asked.

"Probably not; I thought I'd come tomorrow instead. Would that be okay?"

He paused for a moment. "Yes, it should be fine. I'll be fine," he repeated, but she heard the sadness in his voice.

She took a deep breath. "Look, if you need me there, I'll come."

"You will?"

"Absolutely. Though this time I think I'll pack myself an overnight bag, just in case," she said with a smile.

"You always look lovely, even wearing yesterday's rumpled outfit, my dear," he said. "But I can see how you might be more comfortable if you didn't have to."

She laughed, and they continued to chat while she went around her apartment gathering the things she needed. Everything was fine, until she went into the bathroom to get the last few things she might need. "Damn it!" she exclaimed loudly.

"What is it? What's wrong?" he said, sounding concerned.

"Oh nothing, I'm just out of floss, that's all," she grumbled.

"No, you're not. The new one's in the second drawer of the medicine cabinet," he said immediately.

"What?" asked Lisbon, as she reached out and opened the drawer. Sure enough, there was a new box of floss right on top. "How did you know that?"

"That's where you always keep it. That's where it had to be."

"Yes but _how did you know where I keep it_?"

"If I said how I knew, you wouldn't believe me. Because it never happened, right? So, let's say I guessed. After all, I'm great at guessing," he said lightly.

"I know you are, but… that was still very strange, Patrick."

"Uncanny yet irritating, I believe you once said. No offense taken, of course." She could practically hear the wink.

Lisbon shook her head. "Okay, I'll be there soon, and I'll bring some real food with me. Pass me back to Cho."

"All right, see you soon. And I'd like pizza," Jane said, before handing over the phone.

"Hey boss," said Cho as he recovered his phone. "So you're on your way back? Should I call Rigsby?"

"No, it'd be good for Jane to have more than just me to talk to for the rest of the evening. I'll be there after a while; I'm going to finish getting some things together, and then pick up a pizza for Jane on the way."

"All right, if you get here before Rigsby I'll see you then. If not, I'll catch up with you tomorrow at the CBI."

"Right. Goodbye, Cho."

"Bye."

Lisbon tapped her phone, and looked down at the floss in her hand. "That's really weird," she said out loud. Then she tossed it in her bag.

She'd just have to ask Jane about it again sometime.

**TBC…**


	5. Playing Cards and Dreams

**Disclaimer: My love for "The Mentalist" is unrequited. It belongs to someone else.**

**A/N: I will be going on vacation starting tomorrow, so there will be a longer-than-average pause between this chapter and the next; possibly around six days or a week. I promise I'll try to make it worth the wait. Now, on to chapter 5, and one last night spent in the hospital. Warning: comfort-type fluff ahead.**

**Someone Else's Life**

**Chapter 5: Playing Cards and Dreams**

Lisbon rolled her eyes as Jane whined, "The pizza's completely gone? But I only got two slices!"

"Don't come crying to me, Patrick," she said, shaking her head. "I only had one, which means Rigsby had the other **five**."

Rigsby acted like a large amiable dog caught doing something wrong. "So what if I did?" he bristled, attempting lamely to defend himself. "I was hungry."

"Didn't you also have dinner before you came?" Lisbon asked suspiciously.

Rigsby looked even guiltier. "Yes," he mumbled.

Lisbon got even more annoyed, but Jane just started to laugh. "Oh, Rigsby," he said between chuckles, "Don't you ever change."

The three of them were all sitting in Jane's hospital room as the sun began to set. Jane was sitting up in bed, Rigsby had settled into the larger, more comfortable chair, and Lisbon had pulled the corner chair out towards the center of the room. The now-empty pizza box was on the little worktable, which Rigsby had shifted out of the corner when Lisbon arrived.

"So, what do you guys want to do now?" asked Rigsby.

"Why don't we play cards?" said Jane with a grin.

"Forget it. I'm not playing with a card sharp like you," said Lisbon. "If you guys want to play you can, but not me."

"Come on, Teresa, it's just a game," Jane coaxed. "It doesn't have to be for money or anything."

"I said no," she repeated.

"Please? It's no fun if one person is just watching," Jane pressed.

"Oh all **right**," Lisbon said. Why didn't she seem to have any willpower when it came to him?

"What should we play?" asked Rigsby as he took a sip of his soda.

"Strip poker?" asked Jane with a leer, and watched gleefully as Rigsby sprayed his mouthful of soda all over the table in front of him.

"Don't be a pig just because you got me to agree, Patrick. You're lucky Rigsby didn't soak us both with that," Lisbon grumbled, handing Rigsby the napkins so he could wipe up the mess.

"Okay, I'm sorry," Jane said, not sounding sorry in the least. "Regular poker?"

"Sounds good to me," said Rigsby.

"Fine. But I'm dealing," said Lisbon.

"Aw, Teresa, don't you trust me?" Jane asked. He said it in a hurt tone, but there was a twinkle in his eyes.

"When it comes to poker? Absolutely not," she answered, and reached for the deck of cards.

###

They settled quickly into the game. Rigsby was a fairly good player, and actually had the best luck that night in terms of the cards he was dealt. Lisbon was less lucky but craftier; she was the kind of player who could bluff you into folding while actually holding only a pair of threes.

But it didn't take long to see that Jane would always have the advantage in this game. Sly, experienced, lucky and devious, he completely trounced the two of them repeatedly. Only once was Lisbon able to _prove_ that he had cheated shamelessly; she got him to forfeit that game.

While they played, they laughed and chatted. The hospital atmosphere of tension and illness faded into the background somewhat, and for a few hours Lisbon felt like life was close to normal. It may have only been temporary, but she appreciated it. She could tell from the relaxed postures of Rigsby and Jane that they did, too.

###

"Wow, it's getting late, past eleven," Rigsby said. "I should go. You heading out too, boss?" he asked.

Lisbon shook her head. "You go ahead. See you at work in the morning."

"Okay," Rigsby said with a shrug. "Goodnight Jane, goodnight boss."

"Goodnight, Rigsby. Thanks for visiting," said Jane. "You still owe me half a meatball sub, by the way," he added with a grin.

Rigsby laughed. "Oh yeah, I guess I do. Well, a promise is a promise. You'll get it," he said before walking out.

Lisbon and Jane were alone once again, and the room went very quiet. "You didn't tell him you were staying the night," Jane said after a moment.

"Does he need to know? You should've seen the look Cho gave me when he woke me up at noon," she shot back.

"That bad, huh?"

Lisbon sighed. "Not as bad as it could've been, I'll admit. Cho's very professional, thank goodness. Everything is just so mixed up right now; I really don't want anyone getting the wrong idea."

"Including me, right?" Jane prompted.

"Including everyone. The last thing you need when you're this confused is more people getting mixed messages and jumping to conclusions around you."

Jane sighed. "I really have caused you so much trouble in the past 24 or so hours."

"So what else is new?"

"Oh come now, there's no need for a remark like that, Teresa. When I don't mean to be a problem it really does bother me, you know."

She reached out and patted his hand. "I do know, actually. However, you cause just as much trouble sometimes when you're 'trying not to be any trouble'. You're not a bad person, really, but you're a natural pain."

He laughed at that remark. "That being the case, I'd say I'm lucky I have so many good qualities to balance it out," he said with a wink.

"**I'd** say you're lucky you have so many good people who are willing to put up with you anyway," she teased. "But then again, I guess the same could be said for most of us."

"Probably," he agreed. "Any idea when I can get out of here, by the way?" he then asked.

Lisbon nodded. "I talked to Dr. Mendez briefly before I came in. He said at least another week, and two would be safer."

"Oh that's appalling. What did you say?"

"I said I knew you'd want to be out of here as quickly as possible, so if you were safe enough to go at one week, you'd want to."

"Good call. The next question is: where do I go when I do leave?"

Lisbon opened her mouth to answer, when an orderly came in with the cot she had requested. The next twenty minutes were spent helping him set it up in the space near Jane's bed. It was small and narrow, but big enough for her to find comfortable. She thanked the orderly as he left.

"You got a cot?" Jane asked when they were alone again.

"Yes I did. I figured if I was staying overnight again I should have a place to sleep. And before you say anything, your bed was not made for two people to sleep in, as the cramp I still have in my neck would tell you."

Jane opened his mouth, but shut it again, deciding not to argue. "I'm sorry your neck hurts," he said instead.

Lisbon waved a hand dismissively. "It's fine. Anyway, what I was going to say, before the whole cot interlude, was that once you get out of here you might need to live with someone for a bit. It's pretty likely, in fact, according to the doctor. And since you can't really remember where you live right now… I think you should come and stay with me in my spare room." She watched Jane's face, curious about his reaction.

Jane went very quiet. "Thank you, Teresa," he said eventually, "But I think that's a bad idea."

She was a little shocked; that wasn't what she'd expected him to say. "What? Why?" she asked.

Jane took a deep breath and exhaled sharply. "Please don't misunderstand me, I really am grateful for the offer. Really. But with all of my dream memories the idea of living in your apartment, of being with you without _being _with you, makes me a little sad."

She nodded. "I can see why you'd feel that way. I know it's going to be hard adjusting. I guess I'm asking you to just think about it, for now. You know, I'd feel better if I knew for sure you were sleeping somewhere safe, especially while you continue to heal."

"I promise I'll think about it. You're very sweet to offer, especially since I know you don't really want me living with you."

"I want you protected, Patrick. I want you completely healed. I want you back to yourself and back to work. If living with me temporarily makes those things happen, then yes, I do want you living with me," she countered, but smiled as she did.

He smiled back. "I'm getting pretty tired, how about you?" he asked then.

"A little bit, yeah, even though I slept odd hours. And I do have to work tomorrow morning. I'll go change in the bathroom, and then settle down," she answered, and grabbed the bag she'd brought.

###

Two hours later, Lisbon was sound asleep on the little cot. They hadn't talked much more once she'd changed. He'd adjusted his bed back down to a lying position, and the cot was so close he reached out and grasped her hand, lacing his fingers with hers for a moment. She'd squeezed back, then let go and started punching her pillow into a more comfortable shape. He'd laughed at her violent adjustments, and rolled onto his side so he could look at her until he fell asleep.

She woke up to the sound of him crying out and thrashing around so much his bed shook.

She blinked for a second to clear her head, then got up out of her cot and flipped the switch to the night light directly over his bed. She gasped when she saw his face twisted in fear and tears flowing from beneath his closed eyelids. –He's having a nightmare,- she thought. –I wonder how often he still has them. I've got to wake him up.-

She climbed into the bed, sat next to him and shook him slightly. "Patrick, wake up, it's not real." He still struggled and fought, so she tried again. "It's okay, it's just a dream, you're dreaming. Wake _up_, Patrick," she said, shaking his shoulder a little harder this time.

His eyes flew open, wild and unfocused, obviously not seeing her at first. His hand flew to her wrist and gripped it hard. She winced slightly but didn't try to remove it. "It's me, Patrick. It's okay," she repeated.

His breathing slowly returned to normal. "Bad dream," he said, as if she needed the confirmation.

"Looked like it. What was it about?" she asked.

He was silent at first, then he took her hand and placed it against his cheek. His eyes closed again as he whispered, "There was so much blood."

Her eyes went wide with understanding. "Oh my God," slipped out before Lisbon could stop herself. "Come on, move over," she said, and then lay down next to him as soon as he did. She then pulled him into her arms, not caring for a second about skimpy nightclothes or modesty or how it looked. "It was just a dream," she said again, her voice slightly muffled against his shoulder. "You're not there, you're here with me."

His face was still damp as he buried it in the crook of her neck. "I'm sorry I woke you up," he muttered.

"I'm not. Do you think I want you to go through that even a second longer than you have to?" she said immediately. "How often do you have those dreams?"

She felt him shift slightly and pull her even closer. His warm breath continued to puff against her neck. "A lot less often when I have you."

She tensed just slightly. "Ah, I see."

"Yes. They backed off considerably once we got married."

-This is getting out of hand,- thought Lisbon. –Dreams and more dreams **about** dreams.- But she didn't try to pull away. For some reason she asked instead, "So what did I do, Patrick? When you had them anyway, I mean. How did I make you feel better?"

"Several ways, actually," he said, and she felt rather than saw the slightly suggestive smirk against her skin. "In this case, talk to me. Tell me a story or something; help me forget again for a while."

"I don't know any stories."

"That's not true. You're actually thinking of one right now, I can tell by the way your muscles have relaxed after tensing up."

"It's more of an old memory than a story."

"I'm listening."

Lisbon reached up and stroked his hair. Him being in such a weak position made her want to open up every time, whether it was actually a good idea or not. She took a deep breath, and then began.

"When I was little, I mean really young, I used to have nightmares all the time. This was before my mom was killed, that's how long ago it was. Well, my dad wanted me to be a big brave girl about them, but my mom took me aside and told me that no matter how old I got, if I had a bad dream I could always come and wake her up."

"She sounds like a kind woman. Loving, very warm."

"Yes, she was. So, at least a few times a week at first, I'd pad into my parents' bedroom and quietly shake my mother awake whenever I had a nightmare. And she would take my hand and lead me back to my bed. And then she'd start telling me a story about myself."

"As in, when you were a baby or something?"

"Not exactly. It's kind of hard to describe. One night when I was seven she told me a story about my hair. She spoke in a low, soothing voice about dark colored silk, and I ended up dreaming about a princess dress I could dance around in until morning."

"Sounds like mild hypnosis, rather impressive. Was she trained in it at all?"

"I have no idea. But she did it more than once, and it worked every time on me."

Jane pulled back to look at her face. "If you were going to try it on me, what would you pick?"

"That's easy," she said. "Your eyes."

"And what would you say?"

Lisbon smiled. "I'd tell you that in the two weeks you were in a coma, the thing I missed most about you was your eyes. Your eyes are very expressive, you know, even though you're a master at hiding your feelings. I think that's why you always look away from me when you're about to say something that makes you feel vulnerable. You know it shows."

He smiled back at her. "Go on."

Lisbon closed her eyes briefly and thought back, remembering her mother's gentle voice and soothing patter. She tried to emulate it for him. "The color of your eyes, Patrick, is nearly impossible for me to tell. Sometimes they look blue and sometimes they look green, but they always look beautiful. Deep as the ocean, wide as the sky. You make people want to trust you with those eyes. You make unhappy people feel understood with them. And right now," she paused nervously for a second before plunging ahead. "You're making me feel loved from the look in them."

"You are very much loved, Teresa, whether you believe it or not," Jane said. But he didn't say anything further, didn't make her uncomfortable. "Thank you for the story. I actually do feel a bit calmer."

"Mom was good, very good," Lisbon said, and began to shift away from him as he loosened his grasp on her. "I'm going to go crawl back in my cot and catch a few more hours of sleep, okay?"

"Probably the safest idea," he said with a nod.

She climbed into the cot and settled down again. She looked up at him once more and said, "But if you have another bad dream, wake me up."

"Okay, although I have the feeling I know exactly what I'm going to be dreaming about, and it's anything but bad," he said, as he reached up and switched the nightlight back off.

**TBC… **


	6. Where the Heart Is

**Disclaimer: Not mine.**

**A/N: Due to Hurricane Irene, my vacation was cancelled! Sad for me, but it does mean I will be posting a little sooner than predicted. Here we have chapter 6: yay, we're finally leaving the hospital! Did Lisbon manage to convince Jane to come stay with her temporarily? And if she did, do we honestly believe the argument will end there? Jane continues to act a little oddly, which is normal for him. Does that make it acting normally, then?**

**Someone Else's Life**

**Chapter 6: Where the Heart Is**

Jane's last week in the hospital went by quickly. It seemed like that to nearly everyone besides him, anyway.

After that second night, Lisbon had decided to spend the rest of the nights that week on the cot in Jane's hospital room. Each day she would leave to go to work, and each evening, following a stop at her apartment for a change of clothes, she'd come back with dinner. He always greeted her return with a brilliant smile. Once she'd wondered out loud, "Sometimes I can't tell if you're happier to see me or the non-hospital food I bring every night."

He had grinned at her. "It's a difficult call, Teresa, but I'd still pick you."

There was only one other night where Lisbon had spent a few hours in the bed with Jane. The scene had been similar: her waking up to the sounds of him struggling violently in his sleep. She had climbed out of her cot and into his bed at once, but had a much tougher time rousing him. When he finally came out of the nightmare, she wordlessly brushed the wild curls and tears off of his face before wrapping her arms around him. He'd sighed gratefully and relaxed against her. She then waited for him to drift back to sleep before going back to her cot.

They still spent a lot of time talking things out. Lisbon continued to worry; while Jane understood she wasn't lying, he was still having trouble consistently remembering that they weren't married. She would catch him (or he would catch himself) in slips of the tongue during random conversations; he'd say "home" when referring to her apartment, for example.

Her apartment remained a sticking point, in fact. She still maintained that she wanted him to come and live with her while he recuperated. He just as firmly stated that he felt it wasn't a good idea.

The night before he was going to be released, they were arguing about it again.

"Teresa, I'm serious," Jane said. "It's going to be strange enough trying to get used to my real life, as opposed to the one I remember. Going to live in your apartment would only make that transition harder."

"I'm not debating that point with you, Patrick. It's not going to be easy on either of us, to be completely honest. 'Easy and comfortable' don't always equal 'right', however. Since you're leaving here after one week instead of two, there's no _way_ the doctors will release you without knowing someone else will be living wherever you are staying," argued Lisbon.

"So, we lie to them. We agree to whatever they say, and then we do whatever we want. It's not like they're going to come and check up on me!"

"Maybe not, but doing whatever you want against the doctor's orders probably isn't the best idea when dealing with a head injury! Staying with me wouldn't be that bad, would it?"

He frowned. "I just don't think I can do it, okay? Not even for my own good."

She was quiet for a moment, then spoke again. "As your friend, I'm already worried about you dealing with all of this. I definitely don't want you dealing with it on your own. If you won't do it for yourself, will you do it for me?"

"Oh, that was a low blow, Teresa."

She let out a nervous laugh. "I know. Did it work?"

He shook his head in slight frustration, but reached out and pulled her close for a brief hug. "Doesn't it always?" he murmured against her hair.

-No, it doesn't,- Lisbon thought, -But I wonder if it will from now on.-

###

The sun was setting as Lisbon drove Jane to her apartment. They didn't talk very much; he seemed uncharacteristically nervous and kept fidgeting in his seat. She reached over and patted his arm at one stoplight, and he briefly squeezed her hand before letting it go again.

"Have you got everything?" Lisbon asked when they pulled up to her place and parked.

"Yes, it's all in the bag in the back seat," Jane replied, already out of the car and reaching for it. They walked in silence to her front door.

"Sorry if it's a bit cluttered in here," she said as she unlocked it and pushed it open. "I did straighten up, I swear," she continued, slightly embarrassed.

"It's fine, it doesn't look cluttered at all. In fact, it looks a little… emptier than I was expecting." Jane replied, before falling silent as he visually scanned each room.

She looked at him, the unasked question clear in her eyes, but he didn't explain further. She thought about it for a moment, and then wondered: was he comparing her apartment to the one in his dreams? Was the extra space he saw caused by the lack of any of his possessions? She didn't know, and didn't feel comfortable asking.

"I made up the guest room," she said instead. "You should be fine in there, and my bedroom's right next to it."

"Great!" he said with a smile. "If I need something, or I get bored, I can just knock on the wall."

She gave him a slightly annoyed look. "Technically, yes, but calling out to me would work just as well. Oh, and you know that motel room key that was in with your things at the hospital? Well, I called the manager and everything's fine. He said you always pay at least a month in advance so you were still covered. Tomorrow we'll go and get the rest of your stuff out of there," she said as she led him up the stairs.

"Sounds like a good idea," he said as he followed close behind her. "Are any of my clothes here?" he then asked.

"Yes, Rigsby went up into your lair in the CBI attic and grabbed the two suits that were there. He dropped them off here the day before yesterday, and I've already put them in the closet. You're set for a couple of days, at least."

"That's good," said Jane as they walked down the upstairs hall.

Lisbon turned around at one point to watch him. It was a little odd how familiar he was with her place; he never made a misstep or walked into the wrong room, even though he'd only been there once before. She decided to stop and see if he would wait for her to guide him further. As she suspected, he didn't. He just walked straight into the guest room and sat down on the bed. She went after him and leaned against the doorframe. She made a sweeping gesture with one hand and said, "Will this be okay for you?"

"Absolutely, thank you. I know I was… hesitant to accept your hospitality, but as I said I really do appreciate it."

"I believe you," she said with a smile. "And like I said, my room's right next to this one, so if anything happens-"

"Like another one of my nightmares, you mean?" he asked, interrupting her.

"I guess I meant that, yes. I'll be right here, so you won't be dealing with it alone."

"**Shouldn't** I be dealing with it alone? Isn't that what I've been doing all this time? I don't want to get used to depending on you, Teresa."

Lisbon's smile vanished as she sighed. This was one of the conversations she'd wanted to avoid, because she knew it was likely to upset both of them. "Patrick, you're still recovering. Once you're back in top condition, I can't stop you from being so hard on yourself. But until that time, I'm asking you to accept my help."

"I'm just saying that apparently that isn't the way I've been doing things so far, so maybe I shouldn't grow accustomed to it. I have no problem accepting your help."

"Obviously you do!" Lisbon exclaimed, her voice rising along with her temper. "Sometimes you have to take things in the spirit they're given, all right? This whole situation has turned my life upside-down too, you know. I'm doing the best I can to find a new normal, but I need you to at least meet me halfway!"

Jane held up his hands. "I don't want to fight about this," he said, shaking his head.

She crossed the room and sat down across from him on the end of the bed. "We won't fight, then" she said, returning to a calmer tone. "But I'm not dropping it. You know I hate it when you shut me out. There are always going to be things we disagree on, but we can't get anywhere if we don't talk," she pressed.

He sighed. "I know. I'm sorry; I did warn you that this was a bad idea."

"It'll be fine, really. We'll make it work while it needs to," she said.

"We can try, anyway," Jane replied. "I'm getting hungry," he went on, clearly ready to drop the subject for now.

"So am I. What do you want for dinner?" Lisbon asked. "There isn't much in the house, unfortunately, but we can do any kind of take-out you're in the mood for. We'll go grocery shopping soon."

He stood up and thought for a second. "For once, I really have no idea what sounds good. Which take-out menus do you keep in the house?" he asked, holding out his hand to her.

"I'm not sure. Why don't we go find out?" She took it, allowed him to pull her up, and walked back downstairs with him.

###

After some good-natured bickering, they decided on Chinese food. Lisbon was a little annoyed with the ease Jane showed handling chopsticks; she'd always been very awkward with them, but he was in effortless control. "Is there anything you aren't good at?" she grumbled at him.

"Not getting punched," he had quipped in return, and she immediately laughed.

They both laughed a lot during their dinner conversation, forcibly keeping it light after the earlier heated discussion. At times Lisbon would catch a serious or troubled expression on Jane's face, but she always found a way to dissolve it. Once she did it by making a humorously sarcastic remark; another time she stole something from his plate. He noticed right away and demanded it back, but she just smirked at him and ate it.

When it got late, she wished him goodnight and went to her bedroom. She heard him moving around in the next room, as he got ready to settle down. It was strange hearing the sounds of another person in her apartment; she'd lived alone for a long time and rarely had guests. -Yet another thing I'll need to adjust to,- she thought, as she pulled the sheet up over her.

She found herself having a harder time getting to sleep than usual, as if expecting some disturbance in the night. Would he have a nightmare again? Would he wake up on his own, confused and afraid? Maybe then he'd come padding into her bedroom longing for comfort, comfort she already knew she'd provide again... but she shook her head to clear that last thought. Helping him when he needed it was one thing; flat-out fantasizing about him was another. She finally fell into a light doze.

Against all odds, Jane slept quietly through the night.

###

The next morning, they had a rather rushed breakfast, since Lisbon wanted to get Jane's things from the motel as soon as possible. Afterwards, she offered him the first shower, but he declined. "It's your home, you should go first," he said, and wouldn't budge on the point. "I'll even stay in my room so you know I'm not peeking," he added with a wink.

She rolled her eyes. "I wasn't thinking about you peeking, Patrick. Of course, _now_ I am. So you just better stay in your room with the door closed until I call out the all-clear."

"Cross my heart," he promised.

"Yeah, right," she said, her voice tinged with suspicion.

But when she came out, he was out of sight with the door closed, just as she'd instructed. Lisbon went into her room and shut the door behind her. "Go ahead, Patrick, the bathroom's yours!" she called.

"Thank you!" he shouted back. Soon after she heard the water running again.

Twenty minutes later, she heard Jane come out of the bathroom and walk down the hall. He stopped and knocked on her door. "Teresa? Are you almost ready to go?"

"Not exactly," Lisbon called out lamely. Truthfully, she was still standing there in her towel. For some reason, she was having serious trouble deciding what to wear. Why did it even matter?

"If you're agonizing over today's outfit, permit me to suggest starting with the matching midnight-blue satin set? It's always been my favorite," he said, and she could hear the playful leer that she couldn't see.

Her mouth dropped open in shock. "Shut up and go get dressed yourself, Patrick!" she screeched. "And STAY THE HELL OUT OF MY UNDERWEAR DRAWER!"

She heard him laughing as he walked away.

###

Neither of them was very positively impressed when they drove up to the motel that matched Jane's key. His room was easy to find, but did nothing to brighten their take on it. Once inside, Lisbon set her mouth in a firm line and remained silent, but Jane couldn't help complaining. "Home sweet hovel," he said, obviously a little dismayed. "I'm sorry you have to see this."

"I've seen worse, and so have you. You kept it very tidy. Plus, everything looks like it's in good repair, and all the locks work," Lisbon said, trying to make the best of it. Her innermost thoughts, which had nothing to do with the condition of the room and everything to do with how isolated it made Jane appear, she elected not to share.

She didn't need to, however; Jane picked up on it and nodded. "This is not a cheerful place to live. It's almost like because of all of this I can look at it from the outside, and it's downright miserable," he said.

"Well, you're getting out of here today. And once you're fully recovered, you can live anywhere you like. You don't have to live here again, Patrick," she told him, reaching out to take his hand. "You never had to live here in the first place."

"It's just ridiculous, Teresa!" Jane snapped, pulling away from her and sitting in the straight-backed chair at the moderately battered motel room desk. "What is this, the reverse version of 'It's a Wonderful Life'? I get to see in a dream what my life would be like if I was happy and had someone I loved who loved me, and then I get tossed back into this lonely mess?"

She took a deep breath. "You can choose to look at it like that. But getting a chance to examine your life with a more objective eye is nothing to sneeze at. If what you see isn't what you want, now you can work on it."

"That's very astute but not very helpful, since right now what I want doesn't actually exist."

"And what is that?"

"You don't really need to ask that question, do you?" he asked quietly as he looked up at her.

Lisbon caught the look in his eye and shook her head. "No, I guess I don't. I know you miss that other life; much more than you've been letting on, in fact." She squeezed her eyes shut for a moment; nervous about the next few words she was about to say. –Once you admit this, you can't go back,- she thought, but went on anyway. "It all sounded very nice to me, Patrick. And maybe I'm a little sorry it wasn't real, too, and it wasn't even my dream."

"You are?" he asked.

"Yes, but that's not the point. The point is, the _reality_ is, that you do have people who care about you and consider you their friend. So you never had to live like this: disconnected, like you were alone in the world."

"I suppose not," said Jane, standing and rubbing his face with one hand. "Would you like to have a seat while I pack?" he asked her, gesturing to the chair. "It shouldn't take too long, since I don't see that I have that much in the way of belongings."

"How about I help you, instead? It'll go quicker that way, and then we can just put this behind us. Where should we start?" she asked.

He smiled at her. "Dresser, I think. And thank you, again."

This time, when she reached for his hand, he closed the distance and twined his fingers with hers.

**TBC… and before anyone asks, no, Jane was **_**not**_** rummaging through Lisbon's lingerie while she was in the shower! But how he knew about the matching midnight-blue satin set, I'm still not telling.**


	7. Surprisingly Domestic

**Disclaimer: No ownership implied.**

**A/N: I'm still amazed at the response I get to this story; thank you so much for all your great comments, favorites and alerts! Now, I must tell you that the fluffy plotbunnies and the angst-y plotbunnies constantly fight over who will dominate each installment of this story. In the battle for chapter 7, the fluffy bunnies won. Warning: this chapter is almost entirely cute Lisbon/Jane home-life scenes, and contains one curse.**

**Someone Else's Life**

**Chapter 7: Surprisingly Domestic**

A lot can change in not much time at all.

"Hi honey, I'm home!" Lisbon called as she walked through the front door of her apartment. In the past three weeks that Jane had been living with her, it had become a shared running gag.

"Welcome home, Teresa, I'm in the kitchen!" she heard Jane reply. He was still on leave from the CBI, so had assumed a lot of the housekeeping chores around the apartment while she went to work. The place had never been tidier.

One night he had teased that he felt like a fifties' housewife. Lisbon had retaliated by surprising him the following evening with the gift of a rather large and frilly apron. He'd found it hilarious, so any night he made dinner he dutifully put it on while cooking.

Lisbon walked into her tiny kitchen to find him decked out in said apron, hard at work. "Something smells very good," she said with a smile.

"Baked manicotti and garlic bread," he answered. "I know it's your favorite but you almost never get the homemade from-scratch stuff."

"Correct on both counts, as usual," she laughed, watching him as she leaned against the fridge. "I should've gotten a househusband sooner," she continued, giving him a wink.

He chuckled. "Good thing I got in here before you did," he said. "How was your day?"

"Oh, don't get me started," she answered with a frown. "This Russo murder is getting the whole team tied up in knots."

"Still?" Jane asked, starting to chop vegetables for the dinner salad. "I thought you said the cousin looked good for it."

Lisbon sighed as she sat down at the kitchen table. "We all _thought_ she did, but her alibi is air-tight. She was in the tank that whole night after being picked up by a beat cop for a drunk and disorderly."

"Drunk and disorderly as in 'starting a bar fight' or as in 'dancing naked on Main Street'?"

"A little from column A, a little from column B," Lisbon said.

"Impressive. Some drunks can seriously multitask," Jane said with raised eyebrows.

"You're telling me. AND it puts us back to square one trying to find a likely suspect."

"Not necessarily. I have said that I'd help, even though technically I'm still on leave. Why not give me the whole story again?"

She shrugged. "Why not? It won't hurt to organize my thoughts out loud, anyway."

So Lisbon stayed in the kitchen and ran through the case as Jane listened and finished dinner. He interrupted several times to ask questions, and once to ask her to taste the sauce, but for the most part let her tell the story from what they figured was the start to where they were now.

"So the cousin's off the hook, and we're stuck," Lisbon finished.

Jane thought for a moment, and then asked, "Did you talk to the dry-cleaner?"

Lisbon gave him an odd look. "The one on the receipt in Russo's pocket, you mean? Yeah, I'm pretty sure Cho and Van Pelt went and gave him the standard line of questioning. Nothing came of it."

"Hmm," Jane hummed as he began taking food out of the oven. "I think it'd be worth talking to him again. Deviate from the standard line a little, though. Ask him if anyone besides Russo ever came to pick up his suits, and specifically anyone who complained severely about a stain that wasn't removed."

"Everyone complains about stains, Patrick. What will that accomplish?"

"Well, you said Russo was known to be very untidy in his appearance, but you never mentioned anyone describing him as nervous or apologetic about it. That means he'd _never_ complain, but someone else who was sick of having to deal with him and do things for him might. And they'd most likely be very memorably upset, venting their anger instead of responding calmly to perceived substandard service."

"So you think we should find out if he had an unofficial assistant, even though there was no record of it? One with a grudge, ideally?"

"Since he was unmarried, that's what I'd look for."

"He was so disorganized that we all assumed he was a one-man operation. But even though you're coming at it from a slightly bizarre angle, it's a good idea. We'll check into it tomorrow. Thank you, Patrick."

"You're welcome. Good to know I can still be of some practical use when I go back with you to the CBI this coming Monday," said Jane with a smile.

"No doubt. Is everything ready?" Lisbon asked.

"Yes, my dear, dinner is served!"

###

They indulged in small talk while they ate. Lisbon was pleased, though no longer surprised, with how good everything Jane had cooked tasted.

"This is excellent, Patrick; thank you for making dinner," she said between mouthfuls of pasta.

Jane smiled. "You're welcome. I like cooking; it helps keep me busy."

"I know it's been rough; it's only a few days more, but you must be getting seriously bored by now."

"It's not so bad. There's television to watch, books to read, stuff to look through…" he trailed off when he saw her glare. "Not in your room, _not_ in your room! I'm trying to honor the agreement, I swear!"

"Oh really? So, what did you manage to dig up this afternoon?"

He grinned wickedly before taking a bite of garlic bread. "Your high school yearbook," he said afterwards.

"Oh no," she groaned. "Where on earth was it?" she asked, spearing a piece of tomato in her salad.

"In a dust-covered box behind three other boxes and a bookshelf," he said smoothly. "I was curious."

"I'll bet. And did you already look through it, or did you save it to spring on me after dinner and demand stories?"

"A little from column A, a little from column B," he said, echoing her earlier comment.

"Well, you can forget it. A trip down memory lane is not on the agenda after the day I've had."

"Come on, I can tell you want to. It'll be fun! Plus, I never went to high school. I need to live vicariously through someone for an evening."

"Seriously, I don't think I'm in the mood."

He gave her a pleading look, then a more familiar wink. "You know as well as I do that you're going to agree eventually. Why fight it?"

She rolled her eyes. "Someday, you're going to come up against a situation you can't talk your way out of."

"I know; it's happened. But when I can't talk my way out, I just ask you to tackle it to the ground. We're a team!"

Lisbon covered her face with one hand, but she couldn't help giving him a small smile. "Fine. After dinner, Patrick, we'll sit on the couch and play 'remember when' for as long as I can stand it."

He sighed happily. "I knew you'd come around."

###

"I love your hair in this one," Jane said, barely managing to keep a straight face as he singled out a particular photo. He had poured them each a glass of wine, which were currently resting on the coffee table.

"Shut up," Lisbon snapped. "It was the style at the time. I can only _imagine_ the terror of your hair in the early 90s."

"No comment."

"Thought so. Next," she said as she flipped the page. They were sitting on her couch, the yearbook open between them. She still remembered every picture she was in, so she could scan around efficiently.

"This is the track team, then?" he asked, pointing to another picture. "You look happy with them."

"Yes, they were nice. A little clique-y at times, but they let me hang out once I made the team. I've always been able to run."

"I don't doubt it for a minute. Were you in anything else your senior year?"

"Well, my part-time job didn't give me a lot of extra time…" she began, then paused.

"But?" he prompted gently.

She sighed, and then turned to the Fine Arts section. "I did one play. I realized I was about to graduate and had never acted in anything. The Drama club was putting on a production of 'Othello', so I auditioned."

Her hand hovered for a moment, then pointed to one photo. Jane looked closely at the caption: "Teresa Lisbon as Desdemona and Adrian Dougherty as the title role in the Senior Class Drama Club production of 'Othello' by William Shakespeare."

"Wow," he said. "Never acted before and you got the female lead?"

"Yeah," she admitted with an embarrassed blush. "Adrian had already been cast. I was actually trying for a more minor role, but for the audition they had me read in the scene where Desdemona is murdered. When I got down on my knees and begged 'Kill me tomorrow; let me live tonight!' the drama teacher practically fell out of her chair. And I got the part," she finished with a shrug.

Jane studied her face for a moment, then reached out and placed a warm hand on her shoulder. "She had no idea you'd really had to plead for someone's life before, did she," he said softly. It wasn't a question.

"No," Lisbon said, leaning almost imperceptibly into his touch. "Anyway, as it turned out I didn't like performing that much, but it was still an experience worth having."

"Good. I suppose you and Adrian hooked up briefly?" he asked, peering at her over the top of his wineglass as he took a sip.

"What? Oh. No, we never did. He was very handsome, as you can see, but he had this stunning Hispanic girlfriend who was also the class president." She smiled again. "We did become good friends, though. In fact, I still get a Christmas card from him and his family every year."

"That's very sweet."

"Yes. I should send him one back someday. I just always get sidetracked and by the time I have a free second, it's too late."

"This year, even if it's late, try sending one anyway," he suggested. "Good wishes are good wishes, whenever they come."

"Maybe I should. I'll think about it," she replied, before leaning back against the couch and shutting her eyes.

"Tired?" Jane asked.

"A little bit, but-" Lisbon started, but was cut off by an unfamiliar sound. "What's that whirring?" she asked, as a strange flattened disc wheeled into view. "What is that?"

Jane grinned. "It's one of those little automatic vacuum cleaners. Isn't it cute? I bought it today and put it on the 'dirt patrol' setting."

"Oh no, that thing has to go, Patrick. I don't do robots!"

"Well, _**I**_ don't do carpets. Choose," he said, crossing his arms defiantly while looking at her with twinkling eyes.

She shook her head in disbelief. "A robotic vacuum cleaner. What is my life coming to?"

"Teresa, it isn't the end of civilization as we know it, for goodness' sake! It's simply an unusual little convenience for while you have twice the feet tramping dirt into the rug."

"Well, I guess I don't have to wonder if you've truly made yourself at home," she said, but he noticed her slight frown.

"What's the problem?"

She sighed. "I don't know, maybe you were right after all. I mean, I said I wanted to help you remember your real life, but this isn't the old real life for either of us, is it? I think we're getting a little too comfortable a little too easily. Maybe I **have** just made it worse."

He was silent for a moment. "Does it feel worse to you?" he asked.

"No, it doesn't, now that the initial awkwardness has passed. It's kind of nice, actually, although if anyone asks-"

"You'll deny it," he finished for her. "I know. I'm amazed that you still worry I might rat you out and tell everyone your darkest secret: that you occasionally _enjoy_ spending time with me."

"Well, you don't have to put it like that!" she said with a short laugh.

"How about I put it like this: in spite of all my misgivings, I'm happy to be here. I enjoy your company, and I like not being lonely. I don't think there's anything wrong with you feeling the same way."

She nodded. "That could be true, but it's still not getting everything back to normal."

"No, it's not, but it's just temporary so I think you should relax. Besides, like you said: sometimes you have to try and find a new normal."

"I did say that, didn't I?"

"Yes, right in the middle of yelling at me. I know that doesn't really narrow down a time frame-"

"Oh hush," she mumbled, finishing off her wine. The "old" normal was never too far away, after all.

###

Monday morning came, and found the two of them rushing around Lisbon's apartment. Lisbon had her coffee-filled travel mug in one hand, and was gesturing wildly with the other. "Come **on**, Patrick, do you really want to be late today?"

"Meh," Jane said, "It's my first day back; I think they'd give me a break."

"_I_ wouldn't, and I'm your boss. Get moving!"

"You do recognize the humor in yelling at me for being late to work when you're going to be the one driving me there, don't you?" he asked with a smirk.

"Patrick, so help me-"

"All right, I'm going! It's not like I'm not mostly ready anyway," he grumbled as he got the last of his things together.

There was a scramble to locate Jane's CBI ID card, which Lisbon finally found at the bottom of the basket containing all of her remote controls. "What a normal, sensible place for it. Why didn't I look here first?" she asked in a loud voice dripping with sarcasm. "Now, where are my keys?"

"I have no idea," said Jane innocently as the automatic vacuum cleaner zipped past his feet. Lisbon turned to look, following the noise, and saw her keys perched on top of it.

"Stop that DAMN robot!" she yelled, diving for it while Jane fell apart laughing.

After a minute, she cornered it and grabbed the keys, and then rounded on him as he still sat collapsed in her armchair, breathless and overcome. "Oh haha, very funny. Congratulations, you've finally managed to turn my life into a cartoon!" she snarled, glaring at Jane. "Let's just get out of here before something else hysterical happens."

"Absolutely," he said, wiping the tears from his eyes. "This is already the best work day ever, and it hasn't even officially started yet," he continued as they walked out.

"Whirrrrrrr," went the little vacuum as Lisbon slammed the door behind them and locked it.

**TBC… okay, I hope that mound of fluff will tide everyone over, because chapters 8 and 9 are shaping up to be fairly angst-y. Don't blame me; blame the bunny war!**


	8. Back in the Harness

**Disclaimer: I own nothing. Nothing!**

**A/N: Here begins the fairly angst-y part. Anyone who has read other stories written by me knows that I never maintain sadness-and-badness, but this installment and the one following it will definitely contain some. Other sections of this chapter include a short dream sequence, a little Rigspelt moment (I am a shipper for them as well), and language.**

**Someone Else's Life**

**Chapter 8: Back in the Harness**

Lisbon parked her SUV, turned the ignition off and looked over at Jane. "Well, here we are. Nervous?"

Jane considered for a moment. "Actually, no, not really," he replied as he opened his door and stepped out.

Lisbon did the same. "That's good," she said as she walked around and stood next to him. "So, are you ready to go back to work?"

"Wait a minute," Jane said, before reaching over and taking her hand. "There. Now I'm ready for anything," he said with a wink.

She rolled her eyes, but smiled back at him and didn't pull her hand away.

###

"Hey, take a look at this," said Rigsby from his spot by the window. "Come on, you'll miss it!"

Cho and Van Pelt wandered over and looked down into the parking lot where Rigsby was pointing. They were just in time to see Lisbon laughing and tugging Jane by his hand towards the CBI front entrance.

"Wow," said Van Pelt. "I had no idea Jane and the boss had gotten that friendly over the past month or so."

"You don't know the half of it," muttered Cho under his breath. He'd never mentioned walking in on the scene in the hospital bed to either Van Pelt or Rigsby. Out loud he said, "They've been living together for weeks, and she hasn't shot him yet. They had to be at least kind of getting along."

They all quickly went back to their desks when they heard the elevator open. Lisbon and Jane walked into the bullpen a moment later. "Good Monday morning, guys."

"Good morning, boss," said Rigsby. "Welcome back, Jane."

"Yeah, welcome back," said Cho.

"We missed you, Jane," added Van Pelt.

"Thanks, everyone," said Jane. "I missed being here."

"All right," said Lisbon, after taking a sip of her coffee. "What do we have on the boards for today?" She walked over and leaned back against a desk, folding her arms in front of her.

"Well, boss, someone has to go and question that hired bodyguard, Wilder," said Van Pelt. She consulted a file before continuing, "And then there's the licensing research you wanted on Russo, plus the follow-up on the dry-cleaner you mentioned before we left on Friday."

"Okay," said Lisbon, after organizing her thoughts. "Van Pelt, I want you to go with Rigsby and handle the second questioning of the owner of the dry-cleaners. Cho, I need you to get in touch with your records contact at City Hall to see if maybe he can fast track the information about Russo's private eye license; we need it ASAP. Jane and I will go talk to the bodyguard."

"No problem, boss," said Cho, already picking up his phone. Rigsby and Van Pelt both nodded, then stood up and started getting their things together to head out.

"Come on, let's go," Lisbon said, and she and Jane walked right back out to the elevator again.

"That was an even quicker exchange than I remember," said Jane. "Six weeks away and I'm out of practice with the timing here, I guess."

"Don't worry, the best way to deal with it is to just jump right in. Time to get back in the saddle, Patrick," she said, as the elevator arrived and she pulled him in after her.

"Right now, it feels more like the harness," he replied wryly.

Lisbon didn't comment, but as the elevator doors closed behind them and they started their descent, she thought to herself, –Please, give us a break. Let today be an easy day on everyone.-

Unfortunately, she wasn't going to get her wish.

###

They had started out the interview with the bodyguard in the usual way, but things had gone wrong from the beginning. Wilder was extremely aggressive and defensive, and Jane's prodding riled him quickly. It escalated to the point where Wilder loomed into Jane's personal space and growled, "Are you making **fun** of me, little man? Don't you want to walk out of here on your own two feet?"

Jane opened his mouth to answer, but Lisbon placed her hand on his chest to stop him. She felt his heart thumping beneath her palm as she said sternly, "Lay a finger on him, and I'll arrest you," to the enormous figure.

Wilder changed his focus and glared down at her, but Lisbon never flinched. After a tense moment he finally backed up a few steps, hands raised, and said, "No problem, ma'am. I don't want any trouble."

"Smart move. We're going to leave for now, Mr. Wilder, but we'll be back. Don't go anywhere too far," she cautioned as she walked away, with Jane following close behind her.

"I can't **believe** I had to step between you and grievous bodily harm on your very first day back, Patrick! What were you thinking, provoking him like that?" Lisbon scolded as they walked down the front steps of Wilder's apartment building. "You know what, don't even tell me. Your lines of reasoning are almost impossible for me to follow, anyway."

Jane didn't say much on the ride back to CBI headquarters. He had a strong feeling that now was not the time to push his luck with her.

###

The same trend continued all week. Jane was clearly back in his element, figuring out things far ahead of the rest of them. But his behavior was just as erratic and irresponsible as ever (if not more so) and after being in a work environment free of it for six weeks, it was really grating on Lisbon's nerves.

Thursday, after yet another interview, Lisbon was fuming silently as Jane walked beside her, nursing one of his innumerable bloody noses that followed a punch to the face. "Teresa, aren't you going to say anything?" he asked in a slightly pinched voice.

She glanced at him briefly. "Why should I?" she bit out after another quiet moment. "You've heard it all before, and you still don't change."

"You're a lot more upset than you used to be, though. Mind telling me why?"

"Yes, actually, I do mind. I shouldn't have to explain why you putting yourself in danger after suffering a life-threatening injury and undergoing a difficult recovery process makes me 'more upset' than I used to be."

"Hey," he said, putting his free hand on her arm. "I'm fine! It's just a nosebleed. You can relax."

She shrugged him off immediately. "I may never be able to relax when it comes to working with you, Patrick, not if this keeps up. Now be quiet," she ordered as they got back into her vehicle.

Jane attempted conversation several times, but Lisbon simply continued to frown and drive in silence. He reached out to try and touch her again, but she pulled away with a disapproving sound.

Meanwhile, the whole time she was thinking, –Why am I so much more upset? Did I honestly think he'd change, even after getting shot? I was fooling myself if I did. And why did I have to fall in love with the most impossible man I've ever met?-

-Hold on,- said her brain. –Back up. What was that last thing?-

She sat in shock at a red light as she went back over it in her mind. –No, that isn't it. It's not. I'm just a friend concerned for his safety. That's definitely all… right?-

The honk of the car behind them brought her back to reality. As she started driving again, she remembered how lost she felt when he'd first been shot. She considered how afraid she'd been that he wouldn't make it. She thought about comforting embraces after terrible nightmares and happy laughter over home-cooked meals. And she could feel a sensation of panic rising. –I **do** love him.-

"Oh, shit," she said out loud.

"What is it, Teresa? What's wrong?" Jane asked immediately.

She shook her head, turning away from the troubling thought, and then sighed. "Everything," she said, but too low for him to hear. "Everything is wrong."

###

When Friday morning came, both Lisbon and Jane were relieved, albeit for slightly different reasons. Lisbon was just hoping to get through the last day of this nightmare of a week, and then spend the whole weekend hiding in her bedroom. Because as smooth as living with Jane had become, working with him again was going to take some intense adjustment. She really felt like she needed her space, especially after yesterday's uncomfortable realization.

Jane, on the other hand, was hoping to charm her into better spirits once they were alone together again. She was obviously taking his antics very hard, and he wanted to make it up to her if he could. Maybe something simple like a movie night would lighten her mood. Anything to keep living together as painless as possible. Things had been going so well, and he didn't want them ruined.

In the early afternoon, there was a lull in the office activity. The troublesome case was finally closed: Russo's assistant/protégé, an odd little woman in her early thirties, had been charged with his murder. After accepting the congratulations of a smiling team, Jane decided to stretch out on his leather couch and doze.

###

"_Patrick, are you going to sleep the whole afternoon?" said a sweet familiar voice, breaking through his dreams._

_Jane's eyes fluttered for a moment before opening and focusing on the lovely face leaning so close to him. Dark silken strands of her hair tickled his cheek. "Not at all, Teresa," he said, as he reached up to tuck them behind her ear. "I was just wishing for you to come and wake me up, in fact."_

_She gazed down at him, green eyes shining with tenderness, and stroked a soft hand over his face. He pressed a gentle kiss on her fingertips as they brushed his lips, then hummed contentedly as her hand traveled down the length of his arm to grasp his._

_He sat up and pulled her onto the couch next to him. He then put an arm around her as she leaned against him and sighed happily. "So? How'd it go?" he asked, holding her close and breathing in her sweet, familiar smell._

_She looked up at him, and a brilliant smile lit up her face. "Well, I do have some news," she began, and took the hand of his that she still held and placed it on her stomach._

"Patrick, are you going to sleep the whole afternoon?" Lisbon said in a steely tone, as she kicked the end of the couch in the bullpen.

Jane was startled awake. He shook his head and rubbed his eyes, trying to clear his latest dream from his mind. "What? No. I was just resting my eyes."

"Well, get up and get busy. I did ask you for your help with the suspect interview recordings. They have to be properly catalogued and organized for the closing paperwork, and you still haven't even taken the rubber bands off them!" she snapped, picking one stack up and tossing it onto his stomach.

"No need to fuss, my dear, I was going to get around to it," he replied, sitting up groggily.

"Sooner rather than later, and I mean it," she said, fixing him with a stern look before going back to her office.

Jane watched her walk away and blew out a deep breath. He hadn't told her that he continued to have dreams about a different life where they were married. She was so sure that his progression and healing were going well, and he knew this would just worry her. The dreams were no longer as frequent as they were in those first few nights at her apartment, but they still came several times a week.

It was difficult waking up from them sometimes. Her affectionate love was so soothing that he really had no desire to leave it. And while he strongly suspected that feeling of love was there in the real Lisbon, too, she was extremely careful about not showing it. He wasn't sure whether she thought she was doing it for her own good, or for his.

Jane undid the first bundle of CDs and laid them out on his infrequently used desk. "Bah, busy work," he groused. As he reorganized them by date, he thought about what still bothered him the most about his memories and dreams. It was that nearly everything in his life was the same, except for the fact that they weren't married.

The places were the same.

The people, the two of them and the team, were the same.

The love in his heart felt the same.

But she didn't know. And even though he wanted to, he felt like he shouldn't tell her.

###

Late that evening, Lisbon was taking care of the last few things in her office. Cho had long since gone home, but she knew that Rigsby and Van Pelt were still in the bullpen. She pinched the bridge of her nose before glancing through the next stack of paperwork, and began to figure out how much of it could wait until Monday.

She noticed Jane as soon as he strode into her office, but didn't acknowledge him until he coughed expectantly. "Yes, Patrick?" she asked, glancing up at him.

"It's getting late. Shouldn't we be heading back to your apartment?" he asked.

"I have a couple more things to finish, and then we'll go. You can wait in here if you want. Or maybe go have a chat with Rigsby and Van Pelt before they leave," she suggested hopefully.

"Oh no, I've already said my goodnights to the two of them. I'll wait in here," he said, settling comfortably into her couch.

"All right, but don't babble. The quieter you are, the sooner I'll be done and the sooner we can go."

No more than five minutes later, Jane hummed a line from a Christmas song. Lisbon heard it and was confused for a moment, and then her mind supplied the lyrics: "Do you see what I see?" She looked over at him questioningly, and he gestured out towards the bullpen with an incline of his head.

She followed his gaze, and through one of her windows saw Rigsby and Van Pelt standing together. Rigsby had come up behind Van Pelt and put his arms around her waist. He lowered his head and rested it on her shoulder, and she pressed her cheek affectionately against his. One of her hands came up and threaded into his hair as her lips curved into a contented smile.

Jane thought it was really rather sweet, so he was surprised to hear Lisbon's grumpy tone as she said, "Oh, _terrific_, that's all I need."

"What?" Jane asked, slightly confused. "What do you mean?"

"I mean those two at it **again**, and in the office this time! And I'm their boss, so I have to speak to them about it, damn it. Because somehow this week had to end on an even lower note."

"Oh Teresa, why not let it slide? You don't have to give them a hard time about this. After all, it's late and everyone else has gone home. It's not like anybody can see them!"

She frowned at him. "_**I**_ can see them."

Rigsby and Van Pelt, meanwhile, were blissfully unaware of their audience. Grace turned around in Wayne's grasp, and twined her arms around his neck. He grinned and brushed a lock of soft red hair away from her face, before leaning forward and capturing her mouth in a series of soft, tender kisses. She stood on tiptoe, pressing close against him as she happily returned each one.

"Get a room, kids," Lisbon grumbled. She then turned back to Jane. "Patrick, I just thought I'd warn you: I'm about to make a loud noise to startle them. Maybe that'll make them break it up and go home before they take it any further in here."

She went to her filing cabinet and grabbed the largest, heaviest binder she could find, held it up, and then dropped it on the floor of her office. She glanced up as the resounding crash made Rigsby and Van Pelt jump apart. They quickly went back to gathering their things, before Van Pelt took Rigsby's arm and they walked out together. That left Lisbon and Jane as the last two people there.

"That was a little unkind, if I may say so," Jane said once they were out of sight.

Lisbon sighed. "No, 'unkind' would have been getting the hose in the kitchenette and spraying them with it, which believe me I also considered! This way, I don't have to yell at them right now and ruin everyone's weekend," she said. "Although goodness knows my favorite activity first thing on a Monday morning is to give two agents a reprimand about unprofessional behavior in the workplace," she continued in a tired tone as she went and sat back down at her desk. She then bent over her paperwork once more.

Jane was quiet for a moment, then got up off the couch and took the seat directly in front of her desk. "You're still jealous. You don't have to be, you know, not anymore. After all, I'm not," he said gently.

Lisbon's head snapped up and looked at him. "Oh really, and why is that?" She watched his face tense up, as he appeared to be wrestling with a decision. But she wasn't prepared for the words that came out of his mouth.

"Because you have me. And I have you."

She felt her heart sink. -Oh, no,- she thought. –Here I thought he was getting better, and he still feels like we're married. He still thinks he loves me, even though it wasn't real.- A treacherous part of her said that it was just fine, considering that she loved him, but her fears about his mental state overrode it easily.

"Are we going to have to go through this again?" she asked quietly. "That wasn't real."

"Maybe that wasn't," he replied. "But this is."

For some reason, that statement just made her more upset. All of the irritation and stress and confusion that had been building since the whole business began suddenly felt overwhelming.

Rationally, she knew what he needed most was patience. He also needed kindness and understanding, and from her most of all. But in that moment, Lisbon didn't feel kind, patient or understanding.

She felt exhausted and frustrated. She felt angry and sad and cruel.

And that was the reason for what she said next.

**TBC… **


	9. Step Forward and then Back

**Disclaimer: Nope.**

**A/N: Sorry for the cliffhanger last time, everyone! This chapter continues immediately where we left off, and is a little rough in the beginning. I can't see Lisbon being genuinely cruel, but she can get unpleasant when emotions are running high. But Jane is a pretty tough character. So, will it make him crumple, or will it affect him entirely differently? This chapter contains (oh my goodness): references to adult activities, language, and some vigorous making out. Still T-rated (I can't write decent smut, so I don't), but it's there.**

**Someone Else's Life**

**Chapter 9: Step Forward and then Back**

_She felt exhausted and frustrated. She felt angry and sad and cruel._

_And that was the reason for what she said next._

Lisbon's eyes narrowed. "What's that remark supposed to mean, Jane?" she asked, deliberately avoiding the obvious conclusion. She watched him stiffen when she used his last name.

Jane stared back at her. "Uh, well-" he started, but she cut him off.

"No, on second thought, don't tell me. Let me take a crack at it. Sometimes loneliness is a little hard to bear, isn't it? Celibacy is a heavy burden, too, especially for years at a time. I understand. So you want to reach out to the closest thing you have to a woman in your life," she said in a condescending tone.

Jane looked at her warily. After a moment, he spoke. "Teresa, I know you're upset. I know you've had a difficult week, and I also know that I made it more difficult. Maybe we shouldn't talk about this right now."

"Oh no, now is the **perfect** time," she said, and Jane winced as, for the first time ever, she gave him a smile with absolutely no warmth behind it. "We're friends, right? And friends take care of each other. But you don't have to tell me you love me just to convince me to give you some comfort. If you need sex this badly, I can help you out," she said, getting up, walking around and sitting on the desk directly in front of him.

"What?" Jane sputtered, getting up quickly and backing away from her. "That's not what I meant at all. I'm not trying to seduce you…"

"Of course you are, but I'm telling you it's unnecessary. We're the last ones in the building, aren't we? So why don't you lock my door, close the blinds and just have at me, Jane? After all, there's my desk, my couch, even the floor. Hell, I'm feeling so generous, I'll even let you choose," she sneered.

"Teresa, please," he said, "I'm very uncomfortable with this conversation right now, and I really don't want to fight. Can you please stop?"

"I'm not trying to start a fight, Jane. I'm giving you a one-time special offer: get laid in a commitment- and guilt-free manner. You can screw my brains out, and afterwards we won't say another word about it. I keep all your secrets anyway, don't I? What's one more?"

"Stop it!" The tone of hurt and anger was so clear in his loud outburst that it made Lisbon pause. Maybe she had taken this too far.

"I'll tell you what I'm going to do," he continued in a much quieter voice. "I'm going to walk out of here right now. I'm going to get a cab and stay in a hotel tonight. I'll call you tomorrow and I'll see how you feel, and if you say that you still want me there, then I'll come back to your apartment. And from that point on I'll act like this conversation never happened."

Lisbon was confused, but when she opened her mouth he held up a hand, signaling her to let him finish. He took a deep breath. "But there's one thing I'm not going to do, Teresa. I'm **not** going to stay here and force myself to listen to you talk about what we have like it's something casual and meaningless."

Her irritation flared up again. "Excuse me? 'What we have'? Get a _grip_, Jane; this is not your dream world. We don't have anything! We aren't even a 'we'! You know that we aren't married, so you shouldn't keep acting like we are."

"Unfortunately, what I know about us doesn't change how I feel about you."

"Even though it hurts, you've got to face reality. No, your life isn't as happy or nice as you wish it was. Tough crap. Join the club. Deal with it."

She was watching his face as she spoke, and could actually see the instant he lost his temper. His eyes went wide and his lips pressed together. Only for a second, but so hard they nearly turned white.

"That's the best advice you have to offer, Teresa? 'Deal with it'?" he snapped, coming and standing right in front of her. He was so close now that she could feel his breath on her cheeks. "Let's take a look at the facts, then, shall we? I'm in love with you. It's not a dream, and it's not a trick, and it's not a lie. And if I have to deal with it, then so do you," he said, before pressing his lips to hers in an almost bruising kiss.

Lisbon was shocked for a few seconds, before tensing up and preparing to wrench herself away from him. But the open hand she raised to slap his face… slipped around to rest in the curls at the nape of his neck. Her other hand, which she had intended to use to shove him away, gripped his shoulder tightly instead. The fierce bite to his lower lip she still managed, but only so that when his mouth opened to gasp she could push her tongue aggressively inside. Her eyes closed as she swallowed the moan that issued from his throat. She could feel the edge of the desktop digging into the backs of her thighs as he wrapped an arm around her and pressed himself even more tightly to her.

The eerie quiet of an empty building was interrupted by their muffled groans and sighs. Lisbon, breaking away for air, hissed sharply as Jane started to place hot, wet, sucking kisses on her neck. "What the hell are we doing?" she said between soft pants for breath.

Jane left her neck for a moment to firmly kiss her lips again. "Fighting," he murmured against her mouth, before returning his attention to her throat.

She whimpered and tilted her head to give him easier access without even thinking. Her fingers stroked his hair, then slipped beneath the neck of his shirt to stroke the smooth flesh over his collarbone. It was all she could reach.

He smiled against her skin and pulled away for a moment. Keeping her as close as possible, Jane walked backward until the backs of his knees hit her couch. He sat down, hard, and pulled her down to straddle his lap. Within a moment, her blouse was completely un-tucked and mostly unbuttoned.

She chuckled in gentle amusement as one of his hands brushed over her stomach before tenderly palming a breast. The chuckle turned into a shuddering sigh as his thumb stroked the soft skin directly over the lace edge of her bra.

His other hand firmly gripped her hip, and his thigh muscles tensed as he pushed up against her. She slid back over his lap, the heat of her body warming him through the thin fabric of her dress pants. He made a sound of complete contentment as he slipped his tongue past her lips again. His heart swelled as she cupped his face in her hands and welcomed his every touch and kiss.

Some time later, gasping, he pulled away just enough to rest his slightly damp forehead against hers. "Okay, if you're going to kill me for this, I think I'm about ready to die happy now," he said in a somewhat strained voice.

"I think I'll let you live this time," she answered. She felt almost drunk from his sensual attention, and they were still practically completely dressed. Her mind reeled from speculating what anything more with him would be like.

"Oh that's good," he said, relieved, and slipped both arms under her shirt and around her bare waist. He held her tightly and nuzzled her soft cheek as his heart rate began to slow down to normal. "I really do love you, you know."

She wound her arms around his shoulders and sighed. "I know now. And you're right: if you have to deal with it, then so do I," she whispered. "Whether I think any of this is a good idea or not, I've got to stop trying to ignore it."

"Good, that's good. We're making a little progress here, finally," he said.

Lisbon smirked. "Maybe more than a little," she said, before sobering slightly. "Please don't go to a hotel, Patrick. Come home with me."

He smiled at her return to the use of his first name. "Teresa, maybe it would still be better if I gave you your space for a night. This didn't actually take care of why you were so upset."

"No, but it did release about fifty pounds of pressure," she muttered. "Look, I… I know what I said hurt you. I knew it would hurt when I said it, and I was so upset I did anyway. But I'm very sorry. A lot of it wasn't even actually how I feel; it's just that this whole situation has really been getting to me. Every time I think I've got a handle on things, a new wrinkle is tossed in and I'm flat on my ass again."

"Talk about 'join the club'," he grumbled, and was surprised to hear her laugh.

"I know, you're the wrong person to complain to about this," she said.

"Actually, I'm the perfect person to complain to about it because I totally understand," he replied quickly. "And even though it pains me to say it, maybe I went a little overboard this week, even for me. Maybe I wanted to show everyone I was back, still the same old Jane after being shot in the head. That's probably the easiest explanation for it."

"Or you're just a jerk," she added with a grin as she started to get up from his lap.

"Always a possibility," he agreed, softly stroking his fingertips over the skin of her back before letting her go.

She inhaled sharply. "Easy there, busy hands," she quipped as she placed a hand on each of his shoulders and pushed herself off his lap. "Well, it really is up to you where you want to stay tonight, but we should get going before the cleaning crew gets to this floor."

Lisbon went to her desk and pulled out the mirror she kept in the middle drawer. She took in her appearance: hair mussed, blouse unbuttoned and rumpled, bra showing, and no less than four livid red hickeys scattered over her neck. "Jesus, Patrick, I look like last call at the junior prom!"

Jane laughed and shrugged. "If I apologized for doing what I did to make you look like that, it would be a lie. So for once I'm going to keep my mouth shut."

She rolled her eyes at him as she started tidying herself up.

###

After enduring the knowing look from the night guard, Lisbon walked out of the CBI building to her vehicle. Jane came with her, and leaned against the side of it when she paused before getting in.

"Do you want me to drive you to a hotel?" she asked him, her skin pale in the moonlight.

"Well, what would happen if I went back to your apartment with you?" he asked.

"Probably a little food, and then we'd go to bed," she replied after considering for a second.

"Yours or mine?" he asked with a wink.

"Knock it off. Each to our own, Patrick."

"Hmm, not very enticing."

"It's not meant to be. I'm not saying that what happened earlier wasn't-" _wonderful, incredible, mind-blowing, electrifying_, her memory quickly supplied, "very nice, but that doesn't mean leaping into bed is the right step to take next."

"That's not the tune you were whistling earlier, as you may recall," he said.

"Different situation. I was angry, and I didn't mean it. And anyway, that was before."

"Before what?"

"Before I believed that you really love me, all right?" she blurted out, embarrassed.

He smiled and took her hands in his. "All right. I know it took a lot for you to admit that, so I promise I won't push this issue anymore. You're off the hook for tonight. Take me to a hotel, Teresa; you've earned a Patrick-free evening."

Lisbon look down at their clasped hands and squeezed. "That would've sounded ideal this afternoon, but now I'm not as thrilled at the prospect. Are you sure?"

"Yes, but like I said, I will be calling you in the morning to see if you want me to come back," he said in a tone of pretend warning.

"I have the sneaky feeling I will," she answered. "Which hotel do you want me to take you to?"

###

Lisbon's apartment was dark and quiet when she walked through the door alone for the first time in a month. She shook her head; she'd lived alone for years, and one night without him shouldn't cause her any trouble. It could be nice, even.

She moved around the rooms, softly humming in a distracted way as she tidied a few things. She dug some leftovers out of the fridge and threw them in the microwave; it was late enough that she didn't feel like trying to wrestle with cooking anything. The silence, the old familiar silence from years of living alone, was almost deafening.

She flopped down onto her couch and turned the TV on. Scanning through the program guide, she realized there was nothing worth watching, again. When that happened and Jane was around, they'd walk together to the video rental place in the plaza across the street from her building. They'd argue over what movies to get, but somehow always ended up with an equal measure of her and his choices. Just another little thing she'd gotten used to without realizing it.

An hour later, food finished, showered, and curled up in bed, Lisbon found that she was straining to hear the sounds of Jane moving around in the guest room. She shook her head and snuggled further into her pillow. –Come on, enjoy your alone time! Isn't this what you were wishing for?- she thought, annoyed with herself.

She continued to toss and turn for a few hours, before heaving a deep sigh and sitting up. "To hell with _this_. I've had enough alone time to last me for a while longer," she grumbled out loud before grabbing her phone from the bedside table and hitting the first number on speed-dial.

Jane's voice came through on the second ring. "Hey."

"Hey, I know it's late but you're such a night owl that I figured you might still be up."

"You were right. How about you? It's two in the morning; have you had any sleep?" he asked.

She sighed. "Not a damn wink. Can you please come back here?"

"You're sure that's what you want?"

"Definitely," she said immediately. –Otherwise I may never get _any_ rest,- she added in her mind.

"Then I will on one condition, Teresa."

"Yes?"

"The next time you're that upset at me, instead of trying to make yourself feel better by tearing me a new one, you give me a chance to try to make you feel better by being nice to you. Are we agreed?"

"I promise I'll try. That's the best I can offer at this point, Patrick."

She could hear the smile in his voice as he answered, "It'll have to do for now. I'll call a cab and be there soon."

"Okay, I'll see you when you get here," she said before hanging up. She took a deep breath before letting it out slowly. He was on his way back. And as silly and sentimental as it sounded (even in her own mind), she felt better already.

**TBC…**


	10. Impossible to Hide

**Disclaimer: If it's something you recognize, I don't own it. I'm only borrowing.**

**A/N: About the delay: I've been suffering a bit from writer's cramp (a milder version of writer's block), but I've pretty much overcome it. So without further ado, on to the following chapter, where we get a Saturday of lighter plot fare and a Monday morning confrontation that Lisbon really wasn't looking forward to. Surprisingly, it might not be so bad after all. One curse.**

**Someone Else's Life**

**Chapter 10: Impossible to Hide**

Lisbon had wandered back down to the living room in her nightshirt to wait for Jane's return that early Saturday morning. She sat down and thought about each recent event. Some things were essentially the same as ever: him driving her crazy, her being driven crazy and then eventually forgiving him every time. But all the extra emotions between them had begun to seriously complicate matters. For the first time in a while, she wasn't exactly sure where her life was headed from this point. And it made her a little nervous.

She vaguely remembered curling up on the couch with a throw, but she didn't know when she had started to lightly doze. She must have, however, because the sharp rap on her front door startled her awake.

She rubbed her eyes and glanced at the clock; it was almost three. She stumbled over, still wrapped in the small blanket, and checked the peephole. Then she opened the door. "Forget your key, Patrick?" she mumbled, still a little foggy.

"That's not funny, Teresa," Jane said, although he was in fact smiling, evidently amused by her sleepy befuddlement. "You never gave me a key."

"That's right, I didn't," she said, her head clearing more with each passing moment. "You can pick locks, so I didn't bother."

Jane walked into the apartment, closing and re-locking the door behind him. "So I have to act like a thief in the night if I need to come back here without you?"

"I know it gives you a perverse sense of accomplishment, and don't try to pretend otherwise," she replied tartly. "Anyway, you could've taken my house key and made a copy. You shouldn't depend on me for everything."

"That's quite a loaded remark," he quipped, "Coming from the woman who couldn't bear to spend one night alone in her apartment without me."

She glared at him. "Oh shut up," she said, letting the throw drop to the floor and putting her arms around him.

He pulled her closer and nuzzled her hair. "No need to be like that," he whispered as he tucked her head beneath his chin. "It's not like I was getting any rest away from you, either."

She smiled against his skin and squeezed him briefly, then pulled back. "About what I said earlier, in my office-"

He shook his head. "Relax, Teresa. I know you didn't mean it, at least not in the way you said it. Plus, you've already apologized, and I've already forgiven you. That means the subject is closed, in my opinion."

"All right," she said, genuinely relieved. "I need to get some real sleep, and so do you. We can talk more in a few hours, okay?"

He sighed and released her. "Okay. Are you going to come tuck me in?" he asked with a wink.

She rolled her eyes. "Come on," she grumbled, bending down and tossing the throw back onto her couch before taking his hand and pulling him upstairs.

They reached the guest room and both went in. Jane had taken off his shoes, but since Lisbon had come in and sat down on the bed he didn't undress any further. "Something else you need, my dear?" he prompted gently.

"I'm here to tuck you in, so go change and get tired and relax," she said impatiently, covering a small yawn.

"Yes ma'am," he said, and left the room with a t-shirt and shorts under one arm. In a moment he was changed and back. "I'm a little wound up from the late night cab ride; the driver was very animated and really wanted to chat at length about his son's college football team. Why don't we just say goodnight, Teresa?"

"No, no, I'm helping you settle down. You must know a good relaxation exercise for this situation," she said.

"I can think of one, yes," he said with a smile. "It's pretty simple, and you _can_ help me with it, in fact," he continued, sitting down next to her on the bed. "We sit here and stare into each other's eyes for five minutes; you've got a timer around, don't you? In that time we don't touch each other, and we try not to think of anything consciously. When the time is up, we each tell the other person something about them that we have learned."

Lisbon looked puzzled. "Sounds weird. Does that really work?"

"Absolutely, and I know it will relax me," Jane answered. "Let's try it."

So for five quiet minutes, they sat on the bed and looked into each other's eyes. Lisbon noticed that it only took a minute for her conscious thoughts to evaporate, and she let her mind drift as she kept her eyes on his. His expressive gaze always made her think there was more going on in his head than he ever let on, and this situation was no exception.

The timer went off. "Okay, without thinking too hard, Teresa, tell me something you've learned about me," Jane instructed.

The answer came out of Lisbon's mouth before she thought much at all. "You're not as easily bored as everyone thinks you are."

"Interesting. Why do you say that?" he asked.

"Because you're never only thinking of only one thing at a time," she answered. "Even if you're doing a tedious task, you're also thinking of cases or music or other things that interest you. It's only when you start to get tired of all the extra information you're sorting through in your head as well that you genuinely start to get bored. And usually by that time you've already started to cause some kind of trouble to keep you entertained."

"Excellent, Teresa, that's very sharp. And not too far from exactly right, either. You're good at this," he complimented her with a grin.

"Thank you," she said, blushing slightly. "Your turn."

"Ah yes, my turn," he said with a nod. He paused, and reached out to take her hand before continuing. "You're afraid of me."

"Who says I am?" she asked, startled. "No, I'm not. Why would I be?"

"Because I will still argue with you when other people have given up; well, up to a point, anyway," he said, struggling to remain honest. "And because I get past your walls. I know you've worked hard for years to make it very difficult for anyone to hurt you, and the fact that I sometimes get behind those defenses scares you."

Lisbon was silent for a moment, and then started to laugh softly. "What is it?" Jane asked. "What's funny?"

"Just that even you aren't completely right all of the time," she said between chuckles.

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"It means, Patrick, that the fact that you sometimes get past my walls isn't what scares me. What scares me," she continued, "Are those times when you make me want to take them down and _let_ you in."

He was quiet as she let go of his hand and got up from the bed. She looked down at him briefly, her head tilted to one side. "Goodnight," she finally said.

She started to turn to walk out, then apparently thought better of it. Instead, she put one hand on his shoulder, then leaned down and placed a small kiss on his lips. It was feather-light and almost too quick for him to react, much less respond. He blinked in surprise as she wandered off to her own room.

Despite the unexpected bit of tenderness, or maybe because of it, neither of them had any trouble getting to sleep afterwards.

###

"What do you want to do for the rest of this weekend?" Lisbon asked that Saturday afternoon. She and Jane had finished lunch, and then moved back into her living room. He was reclining on the couch, of course, and she was slouched into the armchair.

"I was thinking about that, and I think we should have a sleepover tonight," Jane answered.

Her face took on a confused look. "Um, earth to Patrick: you're already sleeping over at my house."

He shook his head. "No, I mean a traditional one, with sleeping bags on the living room floor and s'mores and staying up way too late laughing," he explained, ticking off each point on his fingers.

She rolled her eyes. "You mean like for children? That's dumb."

"It's not dumb, it's whimsical," he argued with a slight grin. "This week was a little too nerve-wracking on you, I think; a bit of age regression might do your disposition a world of good!"

"Come on, Patrick, we're both well past thirty. Childish behavior at our age isn't even camp or ironic anymore, it's sad," she said, leaning back and crossing her arms.

"I wasn't suggesting we invite the rest of the team over to observe us, you know. It would be just you and me. No one to be embarrassed in front of, my dear."

"Still-" she began, unconvinced.

"Please? You did promise to try letting me cheer you up."

"Yes I did, and I should have known you'd use it against me at the first opportunity. All right, sleeping bags and s'mores it is. I bet we won't get any sleep at all, but we'll still have Sunday to recuperate."

"I knew you'd agree eventually. And I promise you won't regret it. I'll go shopping for ingredients shortly. Leave everything to me."

###

That night, Lisbon had to admit that she really was having fun. It started with Jane telling her all the absolute worst jokes he knew, and her alternating between laughs and groans. Lisbon followed with surprisingly excellent impressions of everyone on the team, including a less-than-flattering one of Jane and an over-the-top version of herself that left him gasping for breath. They did make s'mores, and while the microwave versions were different from the genuine article, they were still far too sweet and extremely tasty.

"Would you like another?" Jane asked her, moving to get up.

She smiled and held up a slightly messy hand. "No, two pair is my limit, Patrick. As it is I feel like my teeth are ready to crawl out of my skull in formal protest. So good, though! I haven't eaten s'mores in years."

"That's a shame. But it definitely settles it."

"Settles what?" she said, indelicately licking melted chocolate from the fingers of one hand.

"It means that I should stick around. You need a bad influence to make sure you have some fun occasionally."

"Be quiet. I have plenty of fun," she grumbled unconvincingly. She deliberately sidestepped the topic of him staying with her long-term as she stood up and brushed crumbs from her lap.

Almost as if summoned by magic, the robot vacuum wheeled into the room and moved to that area of the carpet. It buzzed softly as it removed any traces of dirt or crumbs left by their sticky snack.

"Thank you, Robby," Jane said, nodding fondly at the little machine. After long and careful consideration, he'd decided to name it after Robby the robot servant in the classic science fiction movie "Forbidden Planet".

Lisbon huffed. She still refused to call it by a proper name. "Once you name something, you start getting attached to it, and I still haven't agreed to give it a permanent home," she'd said, and had taken to simply referring to the vacuum as TDR, short for "that damn robot". Theirs was an uneasy peace, though she did have to admit that not needing to drag out her heavy upright vacuum for every single thing definitely had its charm.

The little vacuum whirred its way back out of the room and settled into its docking station in the hallway. "I still find it creepy how it moves around on its own and knows exactly where to go," Lisbon muttered, glaring after it. She shook her head. "What would you like to do now?" she asked him, changing the subject.

"Anything you want. Gossip? More jokes? I'm thinking that scary stories are right out, though."

"Definitely. Real life is scary enough for people in our line of work."

"I agree. So what do you think?"

"Well," she said with a yawn. "I'm getting tired. Why don't we settle down into these sleeping bags and chat until we're ready to call it a night?"

"Sounds like a plan," he agreed.

They both climbed and snuggled down into the cozy sleeping bags Jane had placed next to each other on the floor. He liked having her within arm's reach, and demonstrated it by stretching out and stroking her hair softly. She gave him a questioning look, but didn't move away.

"So how long _do_ you think I'll be staying here with you?" Jane suddenly asked, his hand still in the space between them.

"Why? In a hurry to leave already?" Lisbon replied, winking at him.

"Quite the opposite, and you know that," he answered quickly. "But I've been thinking about what you said last week, and you're right: we are getting a bit comfortable living with each other. I know it'll be very hard to get used to living alone again, and I think I should have a little warning so I can prepare for it."

"We don't need to worry just yet, I think, especially not at-" she checked the time, "One in the morning. Relax, Patrick, we'll figure it out when we come to that point."

"But what's going to happen? Is everything going to shift back? Are things going to get awkward and difficult between us?"

"You think everything is always smooth and easy now?" she asked with a short laugh. "Well you need to let me know when that happened, because I missed it."

"That's not what I meant."

"I know," she said, and sighed. She wrestled her pillow into shape as she tried to put her thoughts into the right words. "Wherever this ends up, we'll promise to be there for each other, okay? Beyond that, we'll just have to roll with the punches, take things as they come, and other appropriate clichés."

He chuckled at that. "You always know exactly what to say to make me laugh, Teresa. It's a very endearing trait."

She smiled and reached out to smooth a few blonde curls from his forehead. "I'm glad you think so," she said. She then yawned again. "Goodnight, Patrick," she said, and rolled over in her sleeping bag to face away from him.

"Goodnight," he answered softly.

###

Monday morning came, and Lisbon was agitated once more. She hadn't been looking forward to bawling her agents out for fraternizing before the office interlude between her and Jane last Friday; now she felt like a total hypocrite as well. She sighed in exasperation as Jane blithely strolled into her office without knocking, as usual.

"Patrick, now is not a good time. I have a private meeting with Van Pelt in five minutes."

"About witnessing the cuddling on Friday? You're _still_ going through with that?"

"Rules are rules! As their boss, I'm responsible to the higher-ups for their behavior as well as my own. I don't like it very much either, you know; mostly I'd rather keep away from the private aspects of their lives," she groused, getting up from her desk and walking over to him. "Anyway, we can talk later, but you should go now."

She was a little surprised when he moved closer to her instead of farther away. He studied her face for a moment. "You really don't like it, do you?" he asked. His hands came up to cradle her cheeks as he leaned down and pressed a warm kiss on her lips. Her hands clasped his and brought them down between them, as she couldn't help kissing him back for a second. He then pulled away and smiled. "Better?" he whispered.

Lisbon opened her mouth to answer, but at that moment there was a knock on her door and Van Pelt walked in. Lisbon let go of Jane's hands quickly, but Van Pelt had seen and was still apologetic. "I'm sorry, boss, am I early?"

"No, Van Pelt, you're right on time. Jane was just leaving," Lisbon quickly replied, and looked pointedly at Jane. He smiled at her before walking out the door, letting it swing shut behind him.

"Have a seat. I suppose you're wondering why I called you in here," Lisbon said, feeling like a detective in the final scene of a mystery novel as she focused her attention on Van Pelt. "I wanted to address your relationship with Agent Rigsby."

Van Pelt looked surprised and transparently guilty. "What? Boss, we… we broke up. We're not-" she started, but Lisbon cut her off.

"Van Pelt, lying to me at this time is not a good idea. I saw you two getting pretty cozy in the bullpen Friday night, and that's the reason I asked you to meet with me this morning. Officially, agents on the same team shouldn't be involved with each other romantically, and carrying on in the office only makes it worse."

Van Pelt stayed silent, and continued to simply sit in the chair opposite Lisbon.

"I need to know I can depend on my team to act like responsible adults. I have no real say in what you do on your own time, nor do I want any. But when you're in the office I expect you to conduct yourselves in a completely professional workplace manner."

"What, like you and Jane just now, boss?" The words were out before Van Pelt could stop them. Her hand flew up to cover her mouth, but it was too late.

Lisbon froze for a moment. In her mind, two conflicting thoughts were battling for her attention. The first was the official line: no smart remarks, no fraternization, no insubordination, time to determine punishment, etc. But the other was different: -Look at the difference three years makes,- the inner voice said. -Van Pelt, our little rookie, stands up on her hind legs and defends herself.- She was surprised and almost fascinated by the second thought: was she actually a bit _proud _of Van Pelt for mouthing off?

She decided to make her reply a mixture of the two. "Since you're a fine agent, I'd like to give you the opportunity to re-think that response, Van Pelt. My advice is to take it."

"I'm sorry, boss, that was inappropriate. I spoke without thinking, and it… slipped out." Van Pelt said apologetically.

Lisbon sighed and rubbed her eyes. "You want my honest, off-the-record opinion, Grace? It's pointless breaking up agents who are in happy relationships. First of all, I'd prefer my team to be happy. And secondly, if you care deeply for someone, you're not going to stop caring for him or her just because your job says you aren't officially allowed to date. It's stupid."

She took a deep breath before continuing. "Here's the deal. You make this easy on me, and I'll make it easy on the two of you. Keep it under wraps, out of my sight and out of the office. I want to be able to convincingly plead ignorance, Van Pelt, especially about things that are actually none of my business in the first place," she finished.

Van Pelt was obviously elated. She smiled brightly, but kept her response to a simple "Yes, I understand, boss."

"Good. You can go now, and I expect you to inform Agent Rigsby, _privately_, of the final upshot of this conversation."

"Yes, ma'am. But can I say something else, while we're still off the record?"

Lisbon raised an eyebrow, but was curious. "All right, go ahead."

Van Pelt stood, then hesitated for a moment. "About you and Jane. I know the circumstances are stranger than anybody could have predicted, but… well, have you ever heard the old saying that there are three things in life that are impossible to hide?"

Lisbon glanced up at her strangely. "Yes, my dad used it once. The first two are coughing and poverty-"

"And the third one is love." Van Pelt finished. "Whether either of you realize it or not, this has been a long time coming, boss. And the team wants you to be happy, too."

Lisbon found herself sitting in stunned silence as she watched Van Pelt leave.

**TBC…**


	11. Let Me Breathe You In

**Disclaimer: No, I don't own 'The Mentalist'.**

**A/N: This chapter involves a little case-related unpleasantness, like a nasty criminal and violence, and some more comfort-fluff (because it seems to work well within this story). Can Jane really talk his way around anyone? Will Lisbon actually (finally) admit how she feels about him TO him? Brief language.**

**Someone Else's Life**

**Chapter 11: Let Me Breathe You In**

"Rigsby?" Lisbon asked, her voice tight with forced calm, "Did you ask Jane to fill out the first page of your primary victim report for the case we just closed?"

"Um, yes? Why, what'd he do?" Rigsby said, faint panic in his face.

Lisbon squeezed her eyes shut in frustration. "Look, Jane is very good at what he does. No one is arguing that. But he's not an agent and he's not familiar enough with our official forms to have him complete them for you."

Van Pelt, listening from her desk, was curious. "How badly did Jane mess it up, boss?" she asked.

Lisbon glanced at the sheet in her hand. "Luckily, most of the form is self-explanatory, so it's not too bad. But as an example, instead of using the code for a gun-shot wound, he decided to list the cause of death as 'high-velocity lead poisoning'."

She frowned at the muffled chuckles coming from the team. "Yes, yes, very clever, but it has to be completely re-done now. And I expect it to be done properly this time, Rigsby," she finished, dropping the page on his desk and giving him a stern look.

"Yes, boss," Rigsby answered seriously, ignoring the strangled laugh/cough coming from Cho.

Lisbon shook her head as she returned to her office. It was barely ten in the morning, and the day was already shaping up to be a tough one. Sitting down at her desk, she took a moment to look out the window and consider recent events.

Two weeks had passed since her heart-to-heart talk (or as near as she was ever likely to come to one) with Van Pelt. She was pleased to discover that her agents were as capable of being discreet as she'd hoped them to be. Of course, everyone on the team knew, but there were no more incidents in the office to give the relationship away to outsiders.

Lisbon took a deep breath, and exhaled slowly. Her interactions with Jane, on the other hand, were a different matter. The man loved pushing the envelope in every way possible, and no matter what she said or did, he continued to sneak touches and kisses whenever and wherever he could. They'd had more than a few close calls in the elevator, one near miss in an interrogation room, and a stolen moment in the kitchenette that would've had her shouting the ceiling down at him… if she hadn't been so busy kissing him back.

She smiled, a little ruefully. That was the real problem, of course. No matter how much she complained, she never actually _stopped_ him.

But the latest murder case that had been handed off to the CBI had totally absorbed her attention for the past four days. It was vicious and apparently random: five teenage boys had all been bludgeoned and strangled. It was also beginning to try her patience. She knew that it was bad when even the imminent prospect of 'catching the bad guy and putting him away for good' was only barely more motivating than 'getting rid of this grisly and awful case for good'.

They had strong circumstantial evidence that a man named Louis Winter was responsible for the string of brutal killings; he had the clearest motive and opportunity. He also gave off such a creepy vibe that everyone who questioned him, not only Jane, got a terrible feeling. Something about him made their cop instincts stand up and scream.

But there was no _proof_. If indeed it was Winter committing the murders, and nothing Lisbon had seen so far made her think otherwise, he was pretty careful about hard evidence. She hoped something would turn up eventually; he had to make a mistake sooner or later, right? And she didn't want another cunning serial killer as a recurring, unsolved case in their files. Ever.

###

"We got it, boss!" Van Pelt called from her seat.

"What? What is it?" Lisbon asked, hurrying over with her coffee still only half-prepared.

Van Pelt adjusted her laptop so the screen faced Lisbon. "Winter bought gas three blocks from the last crime scene on the night of the murder. You know that security camera we thought was a total loss? It seems it did a data dump into the main company's server before it got fried. He shows up crystal clear in the frame, boss; he can't make that go away."

"Excellent!" said Jane, speaking up for the first time that afternoon from his prone position on the couch. "Teresa, you and I should go talk to him again."

"I agree," said Lisbon, "But I want back-up. This guy is smart and very slippery. I don't want to give him any chances. Cho, contact local PD and make sure they're aware of the situation. I'm _sure_ they'll want to send a few cars out to his address," she added meaningfully, and Cho nodded. "Then I want all three of you to follow after us. I know it seems like a lot of manpower for taking in one guy, but… well, as over-used as the expression is, I've got a bad feeling about this."

Jane was quiet as he followed Lisbon out of the building to her SUV. Once they climbed in and got situated, however, he teased her a little. "You know, Teresa, you're beginning to sound like a grizzled, old-school detective in a pulp novel. 'I've got a bad feeling about this'? Can it get any more cliché?"

She rolled her eyes at him. "I know how I _sound_, Patrick. But say what you like about psychics, anyone who's been in law enforcement for a while can tell when a situation feels wrong," she said as she started the engine. "It may not be as conscious as what you do, but we still get signals from people. Maybe we can hear a junkie's teeth grinding, even when he's swearing on a stack of Bibles that he's been 'off the stuff for years', and we just know. So don't knock it."

"Believe me, I wouldn't dream of 'knocking it', my dear. It makes much more sense the way you put it than the line I used for my act. At least you're not trying to say it's magic. I know you're not nearly as credulous as the average person; it's one of the many reasons I'm so fond of you."

She smiled at that, but didn't say anything further. They rode the rest of the way to Winter's apartment complex in silence.

When they arrived, Lisbon unsnapped her holster before even shutting the driver's side door. Jane heard the familiar sound and looked at her quizzically, but she waved him off. "Just a precaution," she said.

Jane climbed the stairs with Lisbon close behind. They reached the landing and Lisbon knocked hard on the apartment door. "Mr. Winter?" she called loudly. "This is Agent Lisbon and Mr. Jane. We'd like to ask you a few more questions." She pounded again, and this time the door opened slightly. Jane pushed it open further, and before Lisbon could say "Wait-" he was already inside.

She drew her weapon and followed right after, nearly bumping into him as he stood stock still in the middle of the room. She quickly saw the reason for this: Louis Winter sat in an armchair with a gun leveled straight at them. "I was wondering when you'd finally get here," he said softly. "Now, now, don't be shy. Come in and sit down, Agent Lisbon, Mr. Jane. I've been waiting for you."

###

"Rigsby, did the boss say she was going to turn her phone off?" Van Pelt asked. "Because I'm going direct to voice-mail."

"No. And she never does that when she's out to pick someone up; she wants to be able to maintain contact at all time in case of new information," Rigsby replied with a frown.

"Something's not right," Cho said, voicing everyone's thoughts. "Let's leave now." Rigsby and Van Pelt nodded and quickly got ready to go.

###

"So, Agent Lisbon," said Winter, "I assume that since you came back, I slipped up somewhere and left a trace for you to find?"

"We don't have to discuss that with you in these circumstances," Lisbon said, her gun still raised and her eyes fixed on Winter's weapon. "You don't have the right to extract information by threatening us."

He shrugged. "Perhaps not a legal right, no. But you must realize that I'm in the position of power in this situation. Incidentally, I do wish you'd drop your gun."

"That's definitely not happening, Winter," Lisbon said firmly.

"Then perhaps I can appeal to your colleague. Mr. Jane, I'll ask you the same question: did you come back to see me for further questioning due to some hard evidence connected with me being unearthed?"

Jane smiled. "Of course. Why else would we bother coming back unless we had something solid?"

"All right. What was it?"

"Oh, I'm sure you can figure that out, Louis. You're a reasonably intelligent man."

Winter sighed. "Mr. Jane, I'm not interested in guessing games. I'd hate to have to deal with this violently. You wouldn't want to make me hurt the lovely Agent Lisbon, would you?"

"I'm not making you do anything. You don't _have_ to do anything. If you're the one in control, like you said, I have no power over your actions."

Lisbon recognized the smooth tones Jane used when he was attempting to place someone in a trance. Did he really believe that was going to work now?

###

"Damn it, why isn't Jane answering either?" Rigsby muttered angrily as Cho sped to the address Lisbon had written down. "Who the hell turns their phone off on duty?"

"They probably did it on purpose." Cho said. "It's an easy signal to us that something's gone wrong."

"I hope they're all right," said Van Pelt. "Has the local PD gotten back to us yet?"

"Yeah, they said they're on their way. ETA, five minutes, ten tops," Cho confirmed.

###

Jane's voice was remarkably calm, as usual, but Lisbon could still hear the tiny note of nervousness in it. "None of these theatrics are really necessary, Louis. You don't actually want to hurt me, or my wi- partner, Agent Lisbon. We don't fit your victim profile at all." And there it was: the stumble where he started to refer to her as his wife. He _was_ stressed; he almost never slipped up like that anymore.

"Oh, I don't know, Mr. Jane. I could always expand my repertoire."

"That would be against my advice, Mr. Winter," Lisbon chimed in. "It would be easiest on all of us if you'd come in quietly."

Winter smiled nastily. "I'm sure it **would**, Agent Lisbon, but why on earth do you think that I'd want to make it easy on you?" he asked, sounding genuinely puzzled as he aimed the gun carefully at her and pulled the trigger.

###

It all ended fairly quickly. The local police had sent three cars with officers to the apartment complex, and they had already arrived when Cho, Rigsby, and Van Pelt drove up.

At the shout of "Shots fired!" the team raced up the stairs and entered the apartment. They found Winter lying on the floor, keening in pain over the nasty bullet wound in his left shoulder. Lisbon was leaning against a doorway, a little winded from the shot she had taken to her vest. Jane was standing beside her, pale in the face, his right hand holding her left. Winter's gun had been kicked into a corner, well beyond his reach. Lisbon's gun was still in her right hand.

"You all right, boss? Jane?" Van Pelt asked, as Cho applied pressure to Winter's wound while Rigsby cuffed him.

"Fine," said Lisbon, a little too quickly. "We're fine. I mean, he got me, but the vest took it."

They'd all made it back down to the parking lot when Lisbon turned to Jane and said, "Patrick, I need you to come around to the rear of the building with me to check out something I saw from the window of Winter's apartment. We'll be right back, guys," she said to the team as she led him away.

When they reached the courtyard side of the building, Jane turned to her. "Teresa, Winter's apartment didn't have any windows on this side. What were you-" he began, but was cut off when Lisbon gripped his lapels and brought him down to face level, kissing him hard.

One of his hands twined into her hair as he immediately kissed her in return. She stepped as near as possible to him, and his other hand grabbed her hip to steady himself. She nibbled lightly on his lower lip before pulling him even closer and deepening the kiss.

After a long moment, she broke away and sighed. "Sorry for springing that on you, Patrick," she said sheepishly.

"No apology necessary; I was a little surprised, but not in a bad way I assure you," he quickly said, grinning at her. When she didn't smile back, he raised an eyebrow. "What's the matter?"

"Crazy men with guns pointed at your head are what's the matter, Patrick. They're getting a little too familiar to me. And after the last one…" she trailed off. Even after months, he could tell she was still shaken by the standoff that started it all.

He wrapped his arms around her. "It's all right; we're both fine, like you told Grace. I do think that if we don't get moving, however, they're going to send someone back here looking for us."

She didn't pull away. "I know. Just… give me a minute," she said, leaning against him and taking in the warmth of his embrace.

"Of course, Teresa," he said gently, and buried his nose in her hair. He inhaled and whispered, "You always smell so nice."

"I do not," she mumbled. "I probably reek of stress and nerves and sweat."

He chuckled. "One, that's not true, and I would hope you'd trust me to tell you honestly if you reeked. Two, it's just as important to know how to accept a compliment graciously as it is to know how to offer one."

"Excuse _me_, Mr. Manners. Remind me to sign up for your etiquette lecture series next spring," she griped, but there was no real anger behind it.

It got a genuine laugh from him. "Okay, when you hand me a comeback like that, then I know you're feeling more like yourself again. Let's go back to the CBI."

She didn't answer out loud, but backed out of his arms and nodded.

###

Late that night, Lisbon was sleeping fitfully when she heard muffled shouts and cries coming from the guest bedroom. She rolled over and looked at the clock: it was a little past one in the morning.

She sighed deeply. She knew he was having a nightmare, and a particularly bad one from the sound of it. It had been over a month since the last one; she'd really hoped that they would stay away for a longer period. She sat up on the edge of her bed and rubbed her eyes, before standing and crossing her room to the door. She'd simply go and wake him up, like usual.

She'd made it into the hall and was just about to open his door when it flew inward. Lisbon almost lost her balance, gripping the opposite wall for support as Jane pushed past her and ran for the bathroom. The door slammed shut behind him, and to her dismay she heard the sound of him being violently sick. She frowned in concern, because _that_ had never happened before. At least, not while she'd been around.

She stayed in the hall, and when she heard the water running and the sound of him brushing his teeth she went and knocked on the bathroom door. "Patrick," she called softly, "Are you okay?"

There was a pause before he answered her. "I'll be fine, Teresa. You can go back to bed," he said.

"Do you need anything? Are you coming right back out?" she pressed.

"Actually, I, um, I think I'm going to take a shower first," he replied. "But there aren't any clean towels in here…"

"I'll grab you a set, hang on," she said, and went to the linen cupboard. In a moment she was back. "I have them, will you let me in?"

Lisbon waited as the door was slowly unlocked and opened. She walked in to see Jane, already stripped down to his boxers, standing as far from her as he could in the little room. His hair was wild and unruly, and there were tear-streaks on his face. "Thank you for the towels," he mumbled, taking them from her and setting them down.

She didn't try to come any closer to him, but she didn't leave immediately, either. "First nightmare in a while, and it's the worst I've known you to have. Was it the same one?" she asked. It always seemed to be the same one.

"Pretty much," he confirmed, "But it was even worse."

Lisbon's mind boggled. _Worse?_ "Can I ask how?" she said. "It's okay if you don't want to tell me."

"This time it wasn't just them. This time he got you, too," he choked out.

Lisbon let out a deep breath. "I'm sorry, Patrick," she said, slowly going towards him. She lifted one hand to brush the tears from his cheek with her thumb. He leaned into her touch briefly before he backed away. She stood there for another moment, then left the bathroom.

But she didn't go back to her own room. She went into the guest room again and sat in the little wingback chair in the corner. Lisbon drew her knees up to her chest and waited for him to come back.

It wasn't too long before he did. He stopped short when he saw her waiting for him, but then he continued with getting ready for bed. She found herself demurely looking away when he changed into a clean sleep set; she wasn't sure why. She didn't think he'd mind if she looked.

When Jane climbed into bed, he rolled over and faced the wall, signaling pretty obviously that he had no desire to talk. Lisbon stood with the original intention to leave. Instead she walked over to the bed and lifted the coverlet, slipping in behind him.

"What are you doing, Teresa?" he asked quietly.

"I'm worried about you. I'm making sure you're all right," she whispered back.

"I'm not," he said honestly. After a pause, he continued. "I think I'd die, you know. I'd die if I lost you, too."

She moved closer to him in the bed. Her arms went around him and rested on his chest and stomach as she cuddled against his back. "Shh, don't talk like that. I'm right here, and I'm not going anywhere until you feel better," she said firmly.

"That could take all night. You might not get any sleep," he warned.

"That doesn't matter," she answered.

Her bare legs nestled behind his, and he shifted his arm slightly and moved a hand to cover the one of hers on his chest.

Jane took a deep breath. "I'm about to ask you something, Teresa, something I've never asked you directly before."

She was a little nervous, but said, "Go on."

"I've already told you how I feel about you. And now… well, now I'm asking how you feel about me. Do you love me, Teresa?"

With her arms wrapped tight around him, she could feel his muscles tense. She imagined it was mostly from anxiety, not to mention leftover upset from his nightmare. She could also sense his dislike for asking a question that made him sound so vulnerable, maybe even desperate to his own ears.

She wanted to tell him the truth. She did love him. But her insides were clenched with fear. Was she afraid of him, like he'd said?

No. Not when she really thought about it. Nothing she was afraid of when it came to this, to _them_, was about him. She knew he wouldn't hurt her on purpose. She knew he loved her and wanted her to love him back. What she was the most worried about had more to do with her own insecurities about relationships.

Lisbon could feel Jane holding his breath, waiting for her answer. Why was it so hard to just tell him?

She snuggled as close to him as possible, holding him tightly as she rested her cheek against the back of his neck. His warm, clean smell filled her senses as she closed her eyes.

"You mean that you don't know?" she asked, and couldn't help cringing inwardly at the small, plaintive voice that had come out. "You don't _know_?" she repeated, and placed a soft kiss on the spot where his neck met his shoulder.

She felt him relax completely as he began to breathe again. He raised her hand to his lips and gently kissed her palm. She nuzzled her nose against his skin and hummed happily.

Lisbon never did return to her own bed. She was still curled tightly against Jane's back in the morning.

**TBC… okay, Lisbon's getting there. Next chapter, we'll find out if that's really the best she can do.**


	12. Relapse, Remorse, Reconcile

**Disclaimer: I only wish it was mine.**

**A/N: What a mixed bag of a premiere, am I right? I can't say I loved everything about it, but I'm definitely going to keep watching. Now to this story: chapter 12 includes frisky making out, language, an argument and a health scare. One brief note: to those who worry when I don't mention/explain/develop something in the plot immediately, fear not! I probably plan on using it eventually.**

**Someone Else's Life**

**Chapter 12: Relapse, Remorse, Reconcile**

Jane's eyes were blurry when he first woke up that Friday morning. He blinked rapidly in the morning sunshine. The room seemed wrong. It was too small, with the bed in the opposite corner from where it should be. But one thing felt perfect: the press of the warm, slender body of Lisbon against his back.

He grinned. She was holding him pretty tightly, so he stretched a bit to loosen her grasp. He loved the sleepy little noises of complaint she made against his shoulder as she shifted and released him. He turned around to face her and just looked at her for a moment. Her hair was tangled and untidy, her eyes were closed, and her tank-and-shorts sleep set was wrinkled and clung to her frame oddly.

In his eyes, she was breathtaking.

He reached out to brush a stray lock of hair out of the way before leaning in to place a small kiss on her forehead. He smiled again to hear the pleased mumble as one of her arms went around him. Her eyes were still closed when she tilted her face up, inviting him to give her another kiss. He did, nuzzling her cheek before pressing his lips firmly against hers.

Lisbon sighed softly as she slowly swam back to consciousness. She opened her lips and swept his mouth with a tender lick. His mouth opened as soon as she did, and his smooth tongue slid against hers.

Jane's hands slid up her chilled arms, over her shoulders and down her back. His fingers finally stopped and dug into her hips, just enough to feel, as he pulled her closer. When she felt him nudging a knee between her legs, that was what really started to wake her up.

There was still another workday to deal with, so as good as this felt she was going to have to wrench herself away. She broke the kiss and mumbled "Patrick, we have to get up, we have work today. We need to stop."

"No, we don't," he whispered drowsily, and tilted his head to give her throat a warm wet kiss. "Call them and tell them we'll be an hour late." His smooth palms stroked over her bare thighs as he tugged, wrapping her legs around his waist and rocking himself against her. "Maybe two hours," he murmured against her skin with a wicked chuckle.

Lisbon shook her head, trying to clear it further. This was a bit too much, too fast. "Patrick, be serious. I'm not calling in late because you've picked this morning to turn into California's sleepiest, horniest octopus."

He paused but didn't loosen his grip. "You really want me to stop? Come on, darling, the team knows our anniversary's coming up soon. They'd give us two hours," he coaxed, his breath warm on her ear.

"_What?_" she said sharply. Her brain, which had been so fogged by sleep and desire, was suddenly as clear as if she'd been doused with ice water. It had rebelled violently at the words "darling" and "anniversary".

He raised his head to meet her eyes. "Our wedding anniversary? The day of the year we got married? Any of this ringing a bell, sweetheart?" he asked playfully. He then slid a hand just beneath the back of her shorts and goosed her, making her yelp and swat him.

"Damn it," she swore. –Staying in the bed with him all night was a bad idea,- she thought. -He wakes up and his brain says 'sleeping with my wife'. Did he completely forget the past few months of all of us trying to re-connect him with reality?-

"You didn't forget, did you, Teresa? Isn't it the husband who's supposed to forget things like anniversaries and birthdays?" he asked with a wink, and leaned in to kiss her again.

She quickly raised her hands and placed one on each of his cheeks. "Patrick, **stop**," she said in her firmest tone.

He did, but gave her a confused look when he saw her frown. "What's wrong?"

"We're not married, remember? We don't have a wedding anniversary. You dreamed us a different life while you were in a coma," she explained. He still seemed puzzled, so she went on. "You suffered a head injury, and you're staying in my guest room until you're fully recovered. Don't you remember?" she asked, almost pleading.

Her heart clenched at the lack of understanding in his gaze. "But," he started to say, and then he went quiet. She could almost see the wheels turning in his head, and knew the moment it began to come back to him.

His eyes widened in embarrassment as he disentangled himself from her embrace. He shifted over to the other side of the bed. "Teresa, I… I'm sorry. I mean, not sorry for… but no, I do remember. It just took a moment."

Lisbon eyes closed again and her cheeks flushed slightly. "No, I'm sorry, Patrick. I shouldn't have slept here with you. It looks like I ended up giving you a relapse. Crap, who knows how far this will set you back? I'm really sorry, this is all my fault."

"What is? It's not the end of the world; it was just a minor slip-up. Things came back to me almost immediately as soon as I stopped to think about them. But I wasn't thinking too hard for a while there, being so distracted," he said with a wink. "Seriously, Teresa, relax."

"I feel like no matter what I do, it isn't right," she sighed dejectedly. "The doctor tells me to go along with your fantasy at first, but I refuse. You tell me we shouldn't live together, but I insist. I know I should go back to bed, but I slink in here anyway. And look how it's working out!"

"It's working out fine," he said, attempting to sooth her. "You _were_ right not to lie to me; I would've felt much worse if you'd strung me along. I'm glad you insisted that I come stay with you, because I think we both actually do better with someone else around."

"And staying with you last night? It made you so confused again," she said sadly.

He sighed. "I told you, it was just a little back-slide. I know we're not married, okay? I know you're trying to help me stick to reality. So you decided to keep me company in bed for one night after a particularly nasty dream, so what? Stop beating yourself up for taking pity on me."

Lisbon rolled her eyes. "It wasn't out of pity. It's not like I was going to get any sleep in my room with you suffering in yours."

Jane smiled and reached over to grasp her hand. "For someone so tough on the outside, you're remarkably soft-hearted. It's hard to balance with being a cop, isn't it?"

"I mostly manage by never really letting anyone in. But of course you already knew that," she answered honestly. He slid closer and wrapped his arms around her, but when he squeezed she inhaled sharply in pain.

"Are you all right?" he asked with concern.

"Just a little tender I guess. I did get shot yesterday, you know," she said, before pulling away and sitting up. "I'm going to hop in the shower now, or we actually will be late. See you downstairs."

He was thoughtful as he watched her leave the room.

###

"How many times do I have to go through this with you, Patrick?" Lisbon snapped. "You have _got_ to stop baiting people until they either hit you or lodge formal complaints!"

It was hours later, early that afternoon, and Lisbon had just received a scathing tirade from the legal department. One of Jane's stunts, while still being effective, had backfired badly in a different direction, and she'd been caught between him and "the people upstairs" once again. Afterwards, as usual, she'd called him into her office.

"At this point, I don't know why you bother going through it at all, Teresa. I'm obviously never going to learn if I haven't by this point," Jane answered with a slight shrug.

"Oh, don't think you'll **ever** get off that easy. If I have to hear about it, you can bet you will, too. Making trouble for your boss has to have repercussions, even for you."

He sat down hard on her couch and sighed. "Don't I make up for it in other ways? Pushing your closing ratio up higher than any other team's, for example? There has to be some reason you've put up with me this long, trouble notwithstanding."

"There must be, although it's currently slipping my mind. Having Legal shout my ear off for twenty minutes straight can affect my memory like that!" she snarled, her volume rising on each word.

"Teresa, would you mind lowering your voice?"

"Why should I? This is still _my office_, Patrick, and I can scream at the top of my lungs if I feel it's necessary. And somehow I never feel that it is, except when I'm dealing with you!"

"Hold on a minute. I know I'm always bending the rules…" he began.

"Only when you're not flat-out breaking them," she interrupted.

"But you don't need to insinuate that no one else does anything wrong, or goes their own way when they have to, or when a case or situation warrants it."

"No one else does it every day, or every case. No one else gives me a phonebook worth of extra paperwork in addition to the usual forms. Even when they're trouble, no one else is like _you_, and sometimes…" she began, but bit her lip and went silent.

He frowned deeply. "Go on, finish your thought. Or should I finish it for you? 'Sometimes I wish I'd never met you, Patrick Jane.' Isn't that what you were about to say?" He raised an eyebrow as he crossed his arms.

Lisbon was speechless, though she didn't know whether it was because he'd picked a thought out of her head that she rarely acknowledged having, or because he seemed genuinely upset about it.

"You know, you're not always the easiest person to work with either," he continued. "You can be laughably rigid when situations require flexibility, and it's no secret why I'm the one who usually comes up with the solution to anything that needs someone to think on his feet."

That string of insults was the last straw. "Get out," she said quietly.

"What?" he asked, momentarily caught off-guard.

"You heard me. Get the hell out; I've had enough of you for the moment. Oh, and you **won't** be coming with us in an hour when we go to pick up that suspect you identified earlier. You can sit on your couch and sulk, for all I care."

"That's my punishment this time for getting you yelled at? I'm being given a 'time out' like an ill-behaved four year old?"

Lisbon got up and went to her office door. "If you don't like it, there's an easy solution. You stop acting like a child, I'll stop treating you like one," she said, pulling the door open and gesturing forcefully for him to leave.

For a moment she thought he was going to keep arguing, but instead he walked past her without another word.

###

Bringing in a suspect never went exactly as planned, Lisbon reflected later. This was supposed to be an easy pick-up; someone whom Jane had suggested for a minor reason, and who looked worse on closer inspection of the man's arrest record. The biggest point in their favor was supposed to be the element of surprise.

Maybe they should've known better, taking that lengthy rap sheet into account.

Remembering the excitement of the day before a little too well, Lisbon hung back, letting Rigsby and Cho take the lead and putting Van Pelt in a point position. She didn't really enjoy bringing up the rear, but she was willing to cover the back entrance when necessary.

Still, she was caught slightly off-guard when the suspect immediately bolted in her direction. It didn't really matter; she easily ran him down. The moment she flew into him and brought him to the ground, however, a searing pain shot through the right side of her ribcage. Trying to take a deep breath only made it worse.

Lisbon gasped out the Miranda rights as she cuffed the prone man. Rigsby and Van Pelt were there in a moment, with Cho arriving a second later. Rigsby hoisted the man to his feet and started walking him to the vehicle. When Lisbon didn't get up from the ground right away, Cho was concerned.

"Are you okay, boss? You don't look right," he said.

Lisbon shook her head, a hand pressed to her ribs. "Hurts… where I got tagged by Winter yesterday," she said through clenched teeth.

"Tell me you got checked out and passed by the doctor after that," Cho said with a direct stare. When Lisbon shook her head, he frowned. "You can't breathe easily? Sharp chest pain?" he asked. She nodded. "Sounds like a possible collapsed lung. Stay where you are, boss, I'm calling an ambulance. Van Pelt, stick with her, okay?"

"Of course," Van Pelt said, and sat down next to Lisbon on the ground as Cho walked off to the side, his phone already pressed to his ear. "It'll be fine," she told Lisbon, and tried to smile encouragingly as she bunched up her jacket as a makeshift pillow and put it under Lisbon's head.

Lisbon started to move around, feeling for something, but Van Pelt put a hand on her arm. "Try not to strain yourself, boss. What do you need? I'll get it."

Lisbon inhaled and winced. "My phone," she said.

"Boss, you shouldn't be talking any more than you have to. Just tell me who to call and I'll do it."

Lisbon wasn't crying; she rarely did and would even more rarely admit to it. But her eyes were watering with pain when she choked out, "Jane. I want Jane."

Van Pelt couldn't keep the surprised look from registering on her face, but she composed herself quickly. "No problem, boss; I'll call him." She pulled out her own phone and tapped his name.

"Hello, Grace, what's up?" said Jane when he answered, sounding suspiciously cheerful for someone who'd be left behind as a punishment.

"Jane, please tell me you didn't listen and are in your car on your way here anyway," Van Pelt said, not caring for the moment about the glare Lisbon flashed her way.

He paused before replying. "All right, yes, I am. Why?"

"Because the boss is down. She's conscious but she can't breathe too well. Cho's calling an ambulance, and she asked me to call you."

"Is she all right? What happened?" Jane asked, fear tingeing his voice.

"The suspect ran and she had to tackle him. All of a sudden, she's still on the ground and it hurts to breathe or speak. Cho says it might be a collapsed lung."

"That sounds very bad," said Jane.

"Not always, but they can be. I know Cho's definitely worried. Once the ambulance gets here, I'm sure they'll be able to tell how serious it is," Van Pelt explained.

"And she asked for me?"

"Yes, she said 'I want Jane'. If you make it here before the ambulance, they might let you ride along, but I don't know."

"I'll make it there, Grace, I'm very close," he said firmly. "See you shortly."

It was less than five minutes before Jane arrived. His tires screeched when his car came to a stop, and Cho met him in the front.

"She's still around back, Jane," said Cho. "Good thing you were already on your way, huh?"

"You're the second person to assume that I was disobeying orders. Doesn't anyone trust me?" Jane asked, but the joke fell flat while his voice was so worried.

"No. Now go on. Tell Van Pelt she can ride back to the CBI with Rigsby and the suspect if she wants. You stay with Lisbon, and I'll stay out here and wait for the ambulance. They should be here any minute now."

Jane walked around to the rear of the house, and relayed the message to Van Pelt. She nodded and left, as he went and sat down next to Lisbon. She hadn't shifted position much.

He took a deep breath and reached out to hold her hand. "I told you we should have stayed in bed late this morning," he murmured as he laced his fingers with hers.

For some reason, Lisbon found this quite funny, but one chuckle and she hissed in pain. "Don't… make me laugh, Patrick," she breathed.

"I'm sorry. I won't make you laugh and I won't ask you any questions," Jane promised. "Just try to relax until the ambulance gets here. They'll be able to tell what the problem is and they'll fix it."

She rolled her eyes at his simple assessment of the situation, but gave his hand a small squeeze as they waited.

###

It didn't take long for the EMT to listen to Lisbon's breathing and confirm that her right lung had collapsed. She was given oxygen immediately. Jane attempted to get in the ambulance with her, but ended up following along behind to the hospital.

After some further treatment, Jane was allowed to go into Lisbon's room.

"Are you feeling any better? Did they help you?" he asked her.

"A little," she croaked, "But it still hurts. They said more oxygen should help, and they're keeping me overnight and sending me home with pain meds. Beyond that, there's not a lot they can do."

He sat down on the bed next to her. "Do they know why it happened?"

"Well, the vest took the bullets yesterday but I have a few cracked ribs. They think that's why. And they yelled at me for not getting properly checked out and getting my ribs taped then."

"I should have convinced you to get checked out thoroughly. You did say you were fine, but I should have insisted."

Lisbon shook her head. "Come on, it's not your fault. Besides, I probably wouldn't have listened to you."

He shrugged. "I don't know; I can be very persuasive."

"You mean, very annoying until someone gives in and does what you want."

"That, too," he agreed, grinning.

She looked away for a moment. "What I said earlier, when we were in my office…"

He held up a hand. "You don't need to say that you're sorry."

"I wasn't going to. I meant what I said: you're a colossal pain, Patrick."

"I see. Going to use up your breath yelling at me some more, then?"

"Hardly. But I did want to tell you that you were right. There have been moments when I've wondered, not _wished _but _wondered_, about what it would be like if I'd never met you."

"Oh dear, I don't think I like where this is going."

"Hush," she scolded before continuing. "Things would be very different, I know that. You drive me crazy a lot of the time. You also make my job less straightforward and sometimes even less pleasant than it could be."

"I can't honestly argue with any of that," he said simply.

"But as for why I fight on your behalf, why I keep you around, what makes up for it? The fact is that you're very good at what you do, even when what you do is wrong. Plus, you close cases, and that will always matter more than any irritation you cause me. The closer we get personally, however, the harder it is to keep these things separate."

"So what do you want to do?"

"I'm not sure," she answered with a small sigh. "I have to admit one thing, though. You turned my world upside down the day you walked into it, and maybe that was something I needed. And maybe that also makes me **want** to keep you around, in spite of everything."

"Teresa, if you want me, if you need me for anything, I'm yours," he said with a smile. "But of course you already knew that." He brought a hand up and stroked her cheek. "Do you think it would be all right if I kissed you now?" he asked in a whisper.

She appeared to seriously mull it over for a moment, and then smiled. "I think we can risk it, Patrick," she whispered back before pulling him closer.

**TBC…**


	13. No One Else But You

**Disclaimer: Only this improbable plot is mine.**

**A/N: Thank you all again for the continued amazing response to this story! My inspiration this time was unabashedly fluffy, so that's what chapter 13 will mostly be (sorry, angst lovers!). This installment consists entirely of the evening in the hospital with a heavily medicated Lisbon; what is it with this story and hospital comfort? Originally, this chapter was going to be a good deal longer than average, but I decided to split it into two instead. Brief language.**

**Someone Else's Life**

**Chapter 13: No One Else But You**

"I really will be fine, Cho," Lisbon said for the third time into her phone. "Yes, Jane's right here, and I'm sure he'll be here until they kick him out."

Jane, who had been shamelessly eavesdropping while sitting on the edge of her bed, grinned. He knew how worried the team was about their fearless leader; thank goodness this was only going to be an overnight stay.

"Boss, do you need any of us to bring you anything?" Cho asked. "I know Jane wouldn't want to leave your side," he added in a matter-of-fact tone.

Lisbon blushed slightly. She knew that the almost-relationship between she and Jane was no secret to the team at this point, but she still felt self-conscious when it was talked about so freely. "It's only one night, Cho, but thank you for offering. I'll talk to you on Monday if not before."

"Okay. Have a good night, boss. I hope you sleep well."

"I'm sure they'll dope me up so much I won't have a choice. Good night." Lisbon clicked off her phone and sighed, then winced as a fresh sharp pain dug into her ribs. "Ow, damn it! I think the medicine is wearing off," she grumbled.

"Do you want me to go find a nurse?" Jane asked, and started to get up.

"No, I'll just push the button; you don't need to go anywhere," she said quickly, reaching out and placing a hand on his arm.

He hitched around and smiled at her. "You know, this is getting a little awkward, sitting with no back support. I should probably switch to a chair."

"You're just fishing for an invitation to cuddle up. You don't fool me for a minute, Patrick," she said with an amused look.

"Am I that transparent all of a sudden?" he asked her with a laugh.

"Only about some things," she replied. "But the answer is yes. The left side is uninjured, so you can climb in there." As he started to lie down she shoved him. "_My_ left, _my _left," she griped. He nodded sheepishly and moved around to the other side of the bed.

He stretched out next to her, and almost immediately she curled against him. Her left arm went around him as she buried her face in his neck. A little surprised at her sudden affection, Jane quickly moved around to settle them both more comfortably. "We're spending a lot of time together in hospital beds, my dear. Do you think we should get one for the apartment?" he asked cheekily.

"Oh be quiet," she mumbled, her lips moving against his skin. She closed her eyes and let their closeness soothe her.

They had been twined comfortably against each other for a half an hour before a young nurse came to answer Lisbon's button call. "Sorry it took so long, Ms. Lisbon, but we're short-staffed tonight," the nurse said as she walked into the room. She took in the scene and added "I'm sorry, ma'am, but if you need more medicine I'll have to adjust your I.V. That means your husband has to get out of your bed."

Lisbon heard Jane's harsh intake of breath. "Actually," he said, in an exasperated voice gearing up for a long explanation, "I'm not-"

"He's not in your way," Lisbon interrupted. "The I.V. is on my right side and he's on my left. He shouldn't have to move."

"He shouldn't be in your bed at all, really," the nurse pressed. "You're badly hurt."

"It makes me feel better to have him in here with me. He's not interfering with my medicine hook up," Lisbon repeated. "Just fix it from over there, please."

Jane kept silent as he watch the expressions on the faces of Lisbon and the nurse. Lisbon's was polite but unyielding, while the nurse was obviously running through her options mentally. Personally, he had no doubt who'd get her way in the end.

Usually Lisbon was far more likely to yield to a medical professional. Since his injury and the following coma, however, she seemed less inclined to automatically do whatever they said. He smiled at the rebellious influence he'd brought out in her, even in a small way.

The nurse sighed. "All right, but don't let the doctor see. They can make a real fuss," she said. After she adjusted the medicine dosage, she addressed Jane. "Sir, all visitors have to leave at eight PM. You've got a little more than an hour, but by then the pain medicine should have kicked in and your wife should be asleep anyway. Keep an eye on the time; you don't want to be caught in here after hours," she warned as she left the room.

Jane waited until she'd gone, then carefully pulled Lisbon closer again. "Why did you stop me from telling her that we aren't married?" he asked as he stroked her hair.

"Several reasons, actually," she replied. "One, this is a Catholic hospital, so officially they have to take a pretty dim view of non-married bed snuggling." She tilted her head back to wink at him, which made him chuckle.

"Okay, I'll give you that one," he said with a nod.

She continued, "Two, I was admitted as 'unmarried'; it's right on my chart. Why should you spend time and energy explaining something she would've known if she'd looked carefully at my paperwork for five seconds?"

"And what's the third reason?" he asked.

Lisbon paused; the medicine was taking effect and her mind was just beginning to fog. After gathering her thoughts, she leaned her head on his shoulder and sighed. "Three, it's nobody's business here whether you're my husband or not. It has nothing to do with the reason I was brought in."

"That's very true, my dear, but it's not like you to lie by omission when you can avoid it. The change in behavior is worth remarking on, at any rate," he said.

"Maybe I'm picking up bad habits from spending too much time with you," she muttered.

"Possibly," he admitted. "Speaking of which, that comment you made earlier, about working together becoming more difficult as we grow closer? Where were you planning to go with that?" he asked.

She gave him a puzzled look. "What do you mean?"

"Well, what were you trying to say? That being together and working together are mutually exclusive? Because that's not true and you know it."

"Oh, do I? Do we need to revisit the drama of Van Pelt and Rigsby when they were fighting? Or how about earlier today when we were at each other's throats over your behavior?" she pressed, and watched him grimace. "We managed to keep the sniping work related this time, mostly, but how long before it crosses over into who didn't clean the apartment or do the dishes?"

"You never clean the apartment _or_ do the dishes, Teresa. Why would we bring that up in an argument?" he teased, attempting to break the tension a little.

She frowned. "You know what I mean. Work life and personal life are both important enough to deserve separate consideration, Patrick. How are we supposed to do that when they're so intertwined between us?"

He took her hand. "I didn't say it would be easy. I'm just saying it's not **impossible**. There are plenty of couples that work together. And besides, I know for a fact that you didn't make Grace and Rigsby break up. And I know why, too; because not dating someone isn't the same as not loving them. And if you love them anyway… well, the difficulties are going to be there regardless."

Lisbon was silent for a moment. Then she asked, "Did Grace tell you I said that?"

Jane shook his head. "She didn't have to. It's just logic, and you're a very intelligent woman." He squeezed his eyes shut for a moment, and then kept going. "I just don't want you being less generous to yourself, and incidentally to me, by not giving us the same consideration."

"Us?" she prompted. "We're an 'us' now?"

"Aren't we?" he shot back. She didn't answer him, but twined her fingers with his and squeezed. "Let me have the chance to prove my point, at least," he went on. "I'm sure I can find examples of couples that made it work personally and professionally. I understand your reluctance to go on blind faith, but can you give me the benefit of the doubt?"

She laughed quietly as her head began to grow more clouded with medicine and fatigue. "Don't I always?" she said with a tone of resignation.

"No, actually. But I always appreciate it when you do. Truly."

She pulled back slightly to scan his face, but instead of replying she changed the subject. "Is your back still bothering you?" she asked, and without waiting for an answer pulled her hand from his grasp. She then slid it beneath his shirt and gently kneaded his lower back muscles with her fingers.

He jumped a little in surprise. "Teresa, my back is fine. You were right earlier; I was just angling for an invite into the bed."

She smiled drowsily and curled into his arms again. "Your muscles are all knotted, you poor thing," she cooed, and huffed warm breaths behind his ear as she continued her gentle ministrations.

Jane was a little worried; Lisbon wasn't usually quite so physically demonstrative. "I think whatever medicine they gave you might be a bit too strong. Plus, it's getting close to eight; I need to leave."

"No, you need to stay. How will I sleep without you?" she whimpered, and clutched him tighter.

"Just fine, I imagine, once the medicine takes full effect. Come on, Teresa; I'll be back before you know it to pick you up in the morning. But I can't stay."

She pulled her hand from beneath his shirt and stroked his hair. "What about you? How will you be able to sleep? You could _too_ stay, and then hide whenever someone comes to check on me," she said, giggling at the idea.

"Or I suppose I could hypnotize anyone who tries to make me leave? Now you're just being silly, and I know it's from the drugs. You'll be fine once you sleep it off," said Jane, and carefully started to disentangle himself.

Lisbon's green eyes went wide and filled up with tears. "I'm not fine; I'm hurt. I shouldn't be all alone. Don't you want to stay with me?" she asked sadly.

-Good **grief**_,_- Jane thought, -what the hell did they **give** her?- "Don't cry, sweetheart. Of course I want to stay," he said gently, and drew her close again. "Let's think of how to get you to sleep, hmm?"

She laid her head on his chest and sighed. "When I was little, before… well, before everything went wrong, my dad used to sing me to sleep. Can you believe that? This big, burly firefighter would come home late, so late at night. And I'd be waiting in my bed to see him."

"You were allowed to stay up until he came home?" he asked, always interested to hear something more about her past.

"Not exactly," she said with a smile. "But unless I was totally exhausted I would anyway. And he'd always know, even though my light was off. He'd open my door, and come and sit on my bed, and sing to me. He'd start with bouncier songs to wear me out, but he always sang the same one as the last song before he left."

"I have to ask: which one?"

"It's called 'Changes' by Phil Ochs. Have you ever heard it?"

"I can't say that I have. What's it like?"

"Nice, it's a folk song. Kind of sad at bits; in fact he used to skip one of the verses. He told me later that he did it because that one always made me cry. It was about leaving someone you loved behind."

Jane nodded slowly. "I can see wanting to leave that one out."

Lisbon sighed. "Anyway, after my mom was killed, he didn't sing anymore. Is it stupid to miss something like that, in the face of the other huge loss?"

"I don't think it's stupid," he answered quickly. "Here was this form of comfort that was a normal part of your life, and now it was gone, too. Another upheaval. It makes perfect sense to miss it."

"Did you sing to your daughter?" she asked suddenly. She felt him tense up in her arms and said, "I'm sorry, I shouldn't have asked that."

"No, it's all right. I guess I should've been more prepared; I had a feeling the conversation would lead this way."

"You really don't have to talk about it if you don't want to. I'm sorry," she repeated.

"I did sing to her," he said. He placed one hand on Lisbon's cheek as he kept her pressed close to his chest. "Angela was a wonderful wife and mother, and she could play the piano beautifully, but she couldn't carry a tune in a bucket, poor woman," he went on, and smiled at Lisbon's surprised laugh. "It's true."

"So you were the singer in your family, too."

"Oh yes, I got the singing duty right from the start. I'm not terrific, but my daughter never complained. Charlotte Ann was a very fussy baby for a while, but I could usually calm her down with one of her favorites."

"That's sweet," Lisbon said, and then yawned. "What did she like especially?"

"Traditional hits, oddly enough. She picked up some of her old man's taste in music, I think," he said, and smiled in spite of the swirl of conflicting emotions and memories. He glanced at the clock; it was almost eight. "Now I really do need to go."

She snuggled him sleepily. "First could you sing me something, Patrick? I know it's a lot to ask, maybe not even really fair of **anybody** to ask, but…"

"I wouldn't do it for just anybody, Teresa," he said firmly. "But I'll do it for you," he murmured after a pause.

He coughed slightly and snuck a sip from the cup of water beside her bed. "I'm a bit rusty, you realize," he warned, and felt her nod. "Well, just don't say I didn't warn you."

He began softly "_Stars shining bright above you, Night breezes seem to whisper 'I love you', Birds singing in the sycamore tree, Dream a little dream of me."_

Lisbon, wrapped up in his embrace, could feel the vibrations of the low notes against her cheek as the warmth of his voice surrounded her. She nuzzled against him and sighed happily.

Jane realized he was rocking her slightly as he continued. He'd been worried that it would make him terribly sad; he hadn't really sung to anyone in almost a decade. But it didn't _hurt,_ not in the way he'd feared. In fact, it seemed almost normal to comfort someone he loved like this, even after so much time. With a single thought back to the earlier conversation, he frowned momentarily. No _way_ was he giving this up. He'd just have to prove that it wasn't necessary for either of them to do so.

He sang the last verse "_Sweet dreams till sunbeams find you, Sweet dreams that leave all worries behind you, But in your dreams whatever they be, Dream a little dream of me_." By her shallow, regular breathing he could tell Lisbon had fallen asleep.

He kissed her softly, and then carefully maneuvered her onto the bed and slipped out. He had just stood up to stretch when the same young nurse came in and tapped her watch with a glare. Jane held up his hands in defeat, then placed a finger to his lips while nodding at the sleeping Lisbon. The nurse raised an eyebrow but didn't comment out loud. He gave her a winning smile and left the room.

Out in the parking lot, Jane looked up at the stars and huffed. It was dark but still early, and he really wasn't tired at all. He dug out his phone and punched Rigsby's speed-dial number. "Yeah, what is it, Jane?" Rigsby answered.

"Is Van Pelt busy tonight?" Jane asked.

"What?" Rigsby said, confused. "I mean, yes, she had a family thing to go to. I'm on my own for the weekend. Why?"

"Do you think Cho's free tonight, too?"

"No idea on that one, man, you'd have to ask him. Why?" Rigsby asked again.

"I'd like a beer, and I wanted to know if you guys would like to join me," Jane said.

"Sure, I'm game," said Rigsby. "Do you want to call Cho, or should I?"

"I will," Jane said. "Then I'll get back to you and we'll coordinate time and place."

"You got it," Rigsby agreed and hung up.

Jane smiled to himself. He had a feeling Cho would be free as well, and tonight was starting to have the makings of an entertaining boy's night out. And after all, if Patrick Jane couldn't get a little helpful information from his friends, then who could?

**TBC… song lyrics are from "Dream A Little Dream Of Me".**


	14. Despite My Better Judgment

**Disclaimer: Nope, not if you recognize it.**

**A/N: Here we have the boy's night out, the morning after, and the results of both. Expect drunk Rigsby and drunk Cho, poker and pool, conversation and planning, and Jane winning at every game. Will Rigsby and Cho be able to help Jane, after all? And does Lisbon really **_**need**_** to be convinced that couples can**__**work together? Language and adult references.**

**Someone Else's Life**

**Chapter 14: Despite My Better Judgment**

Considering that Jane, Rigsby and Cho had gone out on several boys' nights before, the difficulty in choosing a place was a little humorous. But their good-natured arguing would set the tone for the rest of the evening.

Rigsby opened negotiations with the idea of trying a new place in town called "Heather's Burlesque & Grill". Cho gave him a raised eyebrow in response, while Jane replied archly that tonight he was looking for beer and conversation, not breasts and a steak.

Cho suggested a karaoke bar on the outskirts of Sacramento; it was widely reputed to have the best imported beers on tap. Rigsby vetoed this out of hand: the last time they'd gone there, he'd endured a fifteen-minute monotone version of "I Got You, Babe" that had given him a two-day headache.

Jane's eventual proposal of an old favorite met with universal approval. It was a terrific dive of a pool hall, and it tended to be a little quieter than average for a Friday night. It was a place where you could talk to someone if you wanted to, and actually hear what he or she had to say.

Cho had dragged out the deck of cards with the second round of beers and the bowl of snacks. When it came to poker with Jane, they knew better than to play with anything more valuable than corn chips.

"I'll see your two, and raise you two," said Cho. He rearranged the cards in his hand and then continued, "So what did you want to talk about, Jane? You said on the phone you wanted to pick our brains."

Jane considered for a moment about the best way to introduce the subject, and decided to ease into it. "Well, it's about Teresa," he began. "I need a little extra evidence to help convince her of something."

Cho blinked and deadpanned "Uh huh. I'm not really comfortable giving you advice on how to get the boss into bed."

Jane stared back at him and replied, "She's already been in my bed."

He smirked as Rigsby choked on the swig of beer he'd just taken. Cho glared and said "Awkward," as he thumped Rigsby on the back.

"Calm down, that's not what I meant," Jane hastened to reassure them with a smile. "Even _I'm_ not that indiscreet. I can assure you that you'll never hear about my efforts, or lack thereof, to seduce our lovely Agent-in-Charge. That's private."

"Thank goodness," Rigsby rasped, and coughed again. "I'm in for four," he went on in a strained voice, and pushed his corn chips into the pile.

"Me too," said Jane. "What I meant is, Teresa is resisting the idea that people can work together while being in a relationship. I know that it's possible, but I'd like specific examples to present to her. Any thoughts?"

"I hate to say it, Jane, but the boss might have a point," Cho said. "My father once told me I should never get involved with a woman I worked with. When I asked him why, he said, and I quote, 'because you shouldn't shit where you eat'. Of course, it sounds more… poetic in Korean, but that's the nearest translation."

Jane was quiet for a bit as the poker game progressed. He finally replied, "Worth considering. Thank you… I think. How about you, Rigsby?"

"Well, you already know I'm biased when it comes to finding love at work," Rigsby said. "Besides, the boss can't be that strongly against it! Otherwise she would've split Grace and I up-" he trailed off and looked guilty. "Oh crap."

"Relax, we don't care," Cho said. "Plus, we're not at the office right now."

"Right, and neither of us were unaware of the situation," added Jane. "Anyway, I meant examples. Can you think of any good solid examples of couples that work together, Rigsby?"

"Lots of couples work together, Jane. I mean, isn't that what a family business is? Are you going for something more specific, like crime-fighting couples?" Rigsby asked with a chuckle.

Jane rolled his eyes. "Sure. Narrow it down if it'll help you give me a real answer. And call, by the way. Let's see what you've got."

"Full house, Jane," Rigsby said with a huge smile. "Beat that."

"Gladly," said Jane. "Straight flush."

"Damn it, how do you do that every time?" Rigsby groused as Jane slid the pile of corn chips towards himself.

"Come on, I don't do it every time. My round, isn't it?" Jane asked with a grin.

"Yep, winner buys," said Cho. Rigsby nodded, and Jane stood up from the table and went to the bar.

###

The evening progressed. Jane stopped at three beers, but both Cho and Rigsby drank more heavily. Jane smiled inwardly as he watched any inhibitions they still maintained around him disappear. He had a feeling they'd be more inclined to help him now.

"So seriously, boys, crime-fighting couples?" Jane pressed. "You must be able to think of a few!"

"Lord Peter Wimsey and Harriet Vane," Cho piped up. "You know, in the mystery novels by Dorothy Sayers? They even get married in one of the books," he continued, and his brow furrowed in concentration. "And then there's Agatha Christie's Tommy and Tuppence. Detectives end up paired off in lots of stories. Except for Hercule Poirot… oh, and Sherlock Holmes, of course."

"Holmes and Watson," Rigsby mumbled.

"Holmes and Watson weren't a couple, Rigsby," scolded Jane. "Watson was always getting married to some woman or other."

"Look at the facts," insisted Rigsby, feeling the effects of his beers more with each passing moment. "They were best friends, they fought crime together, they lived together, and they didn't have sex. See? You and the boss practically _are_ Holmes and Watson!" he finished, and started to laugh.

"Not cool, man," said Cho. "We don't **want** to know about their sex life, remember?"

"Thank you, Cho," Jane said. "Anything _helpful _you can think of, Rigsby?"

Rigsby made a valiant effort. "Um, wait," he said, screwing up his face in trying to remember. "Mulder and Scully!" he burst out. "They fought crime and ended up together!"

Cho started to chuckle, a rarity when he was sober. "That's the best you can do? Some help you are."

"Shut up, Cho. At least Lisbon has heard of Mulder and Scully. She won't recognize either of the couples you mentioned." Rigsby replied.

"How about Nick and Nora Charles?" Jane asked. "From the 'Thin Man' films?"

"That's actually a good idea," agreed Cho. "The boss loves old movies, so even if she's not familiar with them I bet you could get her to watch one."

"My thoughts exactly. See, this is good, we're getting somewhere!" Jane said happily.

###

An hour later, they'd shifted from poker to playing pool. Jane was doing much better than either Cho or Rigsby, though even he might admit that it was at least partly to do with the number of beers imbibed by the other two. Their conversation had started to wander as well.

"Hey," said Rigsby, beginning to sway slightly as he changed the subject. "I got a good joke. It's a personalized joke, so it changes slightly every time it's told. Who wants me to tell it to them?"

Jane politely declined, but Cho shrugged and answered, "I'll bite. What do I have to do so you can personalize it?"

"It's real easy. You just tell me the names of two men you're friends with and one guy you really can't stand. The rest is up to me."

Jane watched as Cho named the three principle players and Rigsby began to animatedly tell the joke. Jane's eyebrows began to creep higher as it progressed.

"So then Bertram goes," said Rigsby, winding up to the punch line, "'Boy, you two are lucky I got excited!'"

"Wayne, that's disgusting," Jane said, but was drowned out by Cho's laughter. Cho began to fight for breath and held onto the edge of the table for support. "It's also your shot, by the way."

Rigsby leaned over and lined up his cue, but lost his balance and fell flat on his face into the pool table. This only made Cho laugh harder, and Jane grinned as he shook his head.

"I think we've had enough for one night, what do you say?" Jane asked, and Rigsby mumbled agreement, still facedown in green felt. "Time to call some taxis!"

###

Lisbon woke to sunlight shining intensely through the window of her hospital room. Her head felt like it was stuffed with cotton, and her ribs ached. She sighed unhappily, and winced when that briefly made the pain worse. She had to try and remember not to do that.

As she lay back and stared at the ceiling, she tried to remember what had happened the previous night. She remembered getting caught curled up with Jane in her bed by the nurse, and having the painkillers in the I.V. adjusted. After that, it started to get a little… fuzzy.

She was pretty sure she'd argued with him some more about the whole couple vs. co-workers issue. She had to smile slightly at that; he seemed so earnest about trying to convince her it could work. Did he really think at this point that she was going to throw him out, or kick him off the team?

Just because Lisbon had to recognize that it probably wasn't the greatest idea, didn't mean she was prepared to give up on an entire aspect of their association altogether. Maybe she'd played devil's advocate a little too well.

The rest of the evening before she went to sleep slowly began to come back to her. The color flooded her cheeks when she remembered how clingy and touchy-feely she'd become. How was she going to live that one down? Hopefully Jane would have attributed most of it to the medicine.

She dimly recalled babbling about her father, and then… dear God, had she really asked Jane to sing her to sleep? Furthermore, hadn't he done just that, crooning softly and rocking her in his arms?

Well, it was certainly going to be an interestingly awkward morning when he came to pick her up.

Lisbon's hands were still covering her face when she heard the polite cough from the doctor. He was an older man who'd been the most strongly critical of her when she'd been brought in yesterday. "Awake I see, Agent Lisbon. How are those cracked ribs this morning?"

She gave him a direct look. "They hurt."

"Not surprising; they likely will for at least a few more weeks, and _that's_ if you take it easy. Which is something I suggest you do, by the way," the doctor said. Noticing her unhappy expression, he continued, "Three weeks of desk duty would be optimal, if you want to give your ribs and that collapsed lung the best chance to heal properly."

"I'm a state agent, doctor," Lisbon said. "Sometimes my job is physical."

"Then to do that aspect of your work properly requires you to be in top physical condition, which you are currently not. You're the head of your team, correct?" he asked. When she nodded, he said, "Take this opportunity to catch up on paperwork. The head of any department in any organization always has more than enough forms to keep him or her busy."

Lisbon was far from thrilled by the doctor's suggestions, but she kept her response confined to a curt nod.

The doctor crossed the room and stopped at the end of her bed. He scanned her chart once more, briefly, and then smiled at her. "All right, I'm confident that the overnight stay was sufficient. Do you have someone coming to pick you up?"

"Yes, he should be here any time now," she answered.

"Excellent. Take proper care of yourself, take your prescribed painkillers as needed, and I'm sure you'll be back to full capacity shortly. Goodbye, Ms. Lisbon."

"Thank you, doctor. Goodbye."

Lisbon had no idea when Jane would arrive, but she hadn't been waiting too long before he walked in. "Good morning, Teresa," he said.

"Hi, Patrick," she said, and then paused while taking in his appearance. He was flawlessly put-together in terms of his clothes, but his hair was a little more mussed than usual and his eyes were very red. "Didn't you get any sleep at all? You didn't, did you?" she asked, forgetting all embarrassment about the night before in her concern.

"Nonsense, my dear. I distinctly remember losing consciousness for at least three hours at some point during the night," Jane said, and winked at her.

She fought the urge to sigh. "That's not a decent night's sleep for a human, Patrick. What happened?"

He sat down in the chair next to her bed and reached out to take her hand. "Well, after I left you asleep here, I went out for drinks and other entertainment with Cho and Rigsby."

"You went out and got _hammered_?" she asked in disbelief. "And you didn't get any real sleep, you just passed out?" she went on, dimly aware of the anger that was creeping into her tone.

"I most certainly did not; I only had a few beers! I can't say the same for the guys, however. Rigsby is likely struggling with a massive hangover right about now. Cho should be in better shape, because he kept drinking water."

Lisbon shook her head. "You're terrible. Really," she said. After a moment, she added, "So if you weren't that drunk, why couldn't you sleep very much?"

Jane was silent for a minute. Then he murmured, "I missed you. The apartment was too quiet. Too lonely."

She suddenly felt a tightness in her chest that had nothing to do with her injuries. "Oh, Patrick," she said. He looked up at her when she tugged slightly on his hand. "Come on, come up here with me," she said.

He quickly did, and she found herself pulling him into a careful hug almost immediately. "Don't squeeze," she cautioned, and then wrapped her arms around him. She thought it was odd how comfortable she was getting initiating contact between them. Or maybe it wasn't very odd at all, considering what they'd been through the last few days. She kissed his cheek softly, and felt him smile.

They were still sitting close together when the morning nurse came in. "Which one of you is Teresa Lisbon?" he asked in a sarcastic tone.

Jane bit back a laugh as Lisbon answered, "I am."

The nurse nodded and pointed at Jane. "Then you, sir, need to get out of that bed. I have to disconnect Ms. Lisbon's I.V. and get her ready to be discharged," he said, and fixed Jane with a look that meant business.

Jane was ready to argue, just for the fun of it, but Lisbon intervened. "Go on, get up, Patrick. I want to go home," she grumbled, but still smiled at him.

"Me too," Jane replied honestly. "I could use some more sleep; I'm feeling pretty dead on my feet."

"Is that so?" Lisbon shot back. "Then I'm driving."

###

The next three weeks at the CBI were relatively uneventful. Whether that was a blessing or a curse depended on which member of the team you asked.

Lisbon detested being on strict desk duty, but the fact that there weren't any exciting cases to miss out on made her feel slightly better about it. Jane didn't mind the slow period at all. He spent more time than average in her office, calling it "keeping her company". Since they still lived together, and were rarely apart, she called it "pestering her". But that was far from unusual.

What she thought _was_ a bit strange was what happened when she mentioned in passing that she'd run out of good books to read during lunch. Later that same day, a copy of "Busman's Honeymoon" showed up on her desk. Knowing that Cho was the big mystery novel fan, Lisbon went to thank him for it. But Cho shook his head and said, "It wasn't from me, boss. Good choice, though, whoever it was."

Jane hadn't been idle. As soon as Van Pelt returned, he'd grilled her with similar questions to the ones he'd asked Cho and Rigsby. Grace was only too glad to help. She was also much more prepared, and rattled off several more crime-solving pairs, including the married couples on the shows "Hart to Hart" and "MacMillan & Wife". Lisbon would soon find herself watching a great deal more old TV episodes when the cable channels came up empty.

But it was the "Thin Man" movie marathon that Jane proposed the Friday night of the third week that finally made her call him out. They were sitting on her couch together as she turned to scold him. "Okay, Patrick, don't think I haven't noticed a theme in your picks for DVDs over the past few weeks. Oh, and I really enjoyed 'Busman's Honeymoon', too, but since it's in the same category I have to be suspicious. What's the deal?"

He grinned. "I told you I'd find examples of couples that were together romantically and also worked together. What do you think of my efforts?"

"It's all very cute, Patrick, but your examples are all fictional. The issue is how this situation is supposed to work in real life, not on TV," she replied.

"Oh come on! You aren't even a little convinced?"

Lisbon started to laugh. "Patrick, I'll probably _never_ be entirely convinced that this is a good idea. I don't think even you and every example in the world could manage that."

"You're saying this is hopeless, then?" Jane asked with a frown.

She smiled and took his hand. "Not at all. This time I'm saying I want to give it a try anyway, even if it might be a bad idea. Maybe you were right; I could be more generous to myself and to you."

He spoke in a very controlled voice, but Jane's happiness was hard to hide when he asked, "Does this mean I can finally ask you on a genuinely romantic outing?"

Lisbon smiled indulgently at him. "You mean a date?" she asked in turn. "I think you could. I bet I'd even say yes," she continued, and leaned closer to rest her head on his shoulder.

"Excellent!" he said. "How would you like to spend our Saturday?"

**TBC…**


	15. We Plan, Fate Laughs

**Disclaimer: My birthday is in less than three weeks; maybe I'll own it then.**

**A/N: This extra-long chapter is all about the real date, which has two parts. Warning: there's going to be language and a little Jisbon sexytimes at the end. Still not outrageous; T is as naughty as I wrote it. **

**Someone Else's Life**

**Chapter 15: We Plan, Fate Laughs**

"I can't _believe_ this," Lisbon complained as she sat in her armchair and glared at the TV screen. "Today was supposed to be the perfect day to spend outside!"

It was Saturday morning, and Lisbon had turned on the weather channel while Jane was cutting up the fruit for a salad. She'd wanted to check the forecast while he made them breakfast. He heard her disappointed cry, and came back out of the kitchen. "What's wrong, Teresa?" he asked.

"I said I wanted to spend a nice day at the beach together, so of Course the damn weather shifts and now it's going to be overcast all day!" she snapped.

"Are they saying it'll rain?"

"It's not supposed to, but it's going to be cloudy and grey. Well, so much for my idea, Patrick. What would you like to do today? You do have a back-up plan, right?" she asked.

"I have a plan for something for us to do, but not until tonight. But why do we have to give up on the beach? Overcast days are less hot and less crowded. I think we should still go," he said, and smiled at her.

She wasn't buying it. "You're just saying that to make me feel better. A cloudy day at the beach kind of defeats the purpose, doesn't it?"

"Oh Teresa," he chided, rolling his eyes as he sat down facing her on the arm of the chair. "If the only purpose is to soak up sunshine, then yes. But **our** purpose was to enjoy each other's company in a pleasant setting, which is still completely doable. We'll just dress accordingly and we'll be fine. Come on, I have the perfect idea for what to pack for lunch and everything. Let's go anyway."

Lisbon finally smiled back at him. "All right, maybe I'm warming to the idea. A grey day at the beach will be a first for me, though," she cautioned, slipping her hand into his.

"Well, I'll have to work extra hard to make it memorable in a good way, then." Jane grinned, and gave her hand a squeeze. "You want strawberries in the fruit salad, right?" he asked as he got up to finish it.

She laughed as she watched him wander back to the kitchen. "Of course I want strawberries. I want it mainly for the strawberries."

"Okay, okay, just asking. When do you want to leave for the beach? I need to know how much time I have to prepare the picnic."

"Between ten and eleven?" she asked. "That should give us long enough to get our stuff together and be there by lunchtime."

"Sounds good to me."

###

A few hours later and, surprisingly, Lisbon was really enjoying herself.

The drive there had been alternately entertaining and annoying, like most rides spent with Jane. She'd threatened to turn around and retrieve her gun when he started singing a rousing chorus of "99 Bottles of Beer on the Wall". In the next moment, however, she was charmed as he switched on the radio and began humming lightly along with the smooth instrumental jazz that he'd tuned in. His humming, like his singing voice, was pleasantly rough and very nice listening.

The beach was near-deserted, and she decided that the grey sky and mostly still water gave it a stark beauty. It was different than she was used to, but none the worse for it. So far since arriving, they'd only spied two other people on the whole beach: another couple far too wrapped up in each other to be any bother.

They were walking along the tide line, not holding hands but still in step with each other, when Jane leaned down unexpectedly and picked up a clump of seaweed. It was still green and wet, obviously a castaway of the most recent high tide. Lisbon regarded both him and it with deep suspicion. "What are you planning to do with that?" she'd asked him.

"I'm going to chase you up the beach with it," he had answered, giving her a slightly feral grin.

"Oh no, you're not," she said in a firm tone accompanied by a glare. But she was more than prepared and broke into a run when he extended it towards her threateningly. She glanced back over her shoulder and laughed as he began to run after her.

She outpaced him easily, but couldn't fail to notice that he had a fair turn of speed for someone who she'd never seen getting much exercise in the conventional sense. -Must be all that running away from the suspects and witnesses he's pissed off,- she thought.

Starting to get a little winded, Lisbon decided to change tactics. She stopped and doubled-back, watching in amusement as he attempted to stop and turn quickly. She used his momentary loss of equilibrium to her advantage and shoved him, toppling him onto the sand. Straddling his torso, she immediately removed the offending clump of seaweed from his hand and tossed it aside. "You should know better by now, Patrick. Did you really think you'd beat me in a race?" she asked, wiping her now-clammy hand on her jeans.

"How do you know this wasn't where I planned to end up all along?" he answered with a wink.

"Dying to end up on your back in the sand?" she sighed in pretended exasperation, but still stroked his cheek affectionately. Her breathing hitched when he turned his head and kissed her fingertips.

Unable to resist, she leaned down and pressed her lips against his. He responded immediately, and they spent a long moment kissing feverishly in that awkward position. Neither of them cared at all.

She placed her hands on his shoulders and pushed up, hovering over him again. She opened her mouth to speak, but her stomach growled before she'd said a word. He grinned, reached up, and swept her hair out her face. Then he said, "Sounds like you're ready for some lunch."

Lisbon laughed. "Yes, I think so. Let's go back to the SUV and get it."

###

Jane glanced thoughtfully over at Lisbon as he chewed. He'd been careful to pack her favorite sandwiches, and was very happy to see her enjoying one so thoroughly. So far some aspects of this beach trip seemed pretty childish, even to him; seriously, chasing her with a clump of soggy seaweed like an adolescent? He'd probably be embarrassed right now, if he'd been the type to embarrass easily. Or embarrass at all, in fact.

And yet he couldn't remember the last time they'd been so completely relaxed in each other's presence. Things between them tended to alternate between getting easier and getting more complicated, especially lately. Was it always going to be that way, he wondered?

Two hours passed, and Jane and Lisbon were still settled on the blanket they'd spread on the sand. The remains of their picnic were long tidied away. She was staring into the distance, out to the ocean, and for once he almost wished he really could read minds. Reading _people_ wasn't that hard, after some practice and a lot of observation. But there were some moments when he looked at her and honestly didn't know what she was going to say next.

_That_ was the difference between transparent and translucent. The experience was both delightful for its novelty and a little scary. He definitely wanted to know what she was thinking. So he decided to do something he rarely did with anyone because he rarely had to: he asked her.

"What are you thinking about, Teresa?"

She jumped a little, almost as if she'd forgotten he was there. Then she focused on him and said, "Nothing really. Just letting my mind wander."

"So how do you feel about grey days at the beach now?" he prodded. "Still convinced they're not worth it?"

She rolled her eyes. "No, Patrick, I'm having a very good time. You were right," she answered. "But don't get smug about it," she added in a warning tone.

"I swear that I won't," he lied smoothly, but the smirk that came unbidden to his lips made her reach out and swat his shoulder. "It's getting a little chilly, do you want your sweater?" he asked, deftly changing the subject.

"Yeah, I'm going to go dig it out," she said, and stood up to go rummage in the back seat for her favorite oversized cardigan. In a moment she was back. "I'm glad I brought this, especially now that the wind's picking up. I hope it doesn't rain," she grumbled as she sat back down.

"I don't think it will," Jane said reassuringly. "We should be just fine. That's a nice color on you," he added, reaching out and stroking her sleeve. "It matches your eyes."

Lisbon blushed. "Thank you. It was a gift from my brothers one Christmas."

"Good choice," he nodded approvingly, and watched as she looked out to the water again. The breeze came up around them, smelling of the change in weather and the change in seasons and the ocean. It caught the loose strands of her hair and swirled them around her face. She looked absolutely beautiful.

"You're staring at me again. I can _feel_ it even when I'm not looking at you," Lisbon said softly.

Jane shrugged. "I can't help it," he replied. "I love you."

"I love you, too," she said, because she did. She heard his gasp and squeezed her eyes shut, not really regretting it but starting to worry. How was he going to take this? "You don't have to act so surprised," she added, almost pleading. "Just because I haven't told you so before now doesn't mean I haven't felt it."

"Is that right?" he asked after a short stunned silence.

"Yes, and for longer than I was prepared to admit."

He had to chuckle at her statement. "As long as all that? Why didn't you ever say anything?"

At those words she turned her head and met his gaze. And the oh-so-familiar stubborn look in her eyes resurfaced as she countered with, "Why didn't you?"

He didn't answer her right away. He considered everything he could possibly say to explain, but it all came up short. "We've already been through this: because I'm an idiot," he finally said, referring back to that very first night when he'd told her everything that he'd remembered. That he _thought_ he'd remembered, he corrected himself. "But you don't have that excuse, my dear."

This time she laughed. "Don't I?" she asked, and then waved a hand in a non-committal way. "We always had enough to deal with. Too much, in fact. We still do, not to put too fine a point on it. It's never seemed like the right time."

"And yet here we are," he said.

"Yes," she agreed. "Because it seems like we're not going to get a perfect time."

"So we have to take the chance we can get? That doesn't sound very romantic, Teresa."

"Maybe not, but it's **real**, which is more important. And I do mean it, Patrick. Why else do you think I said I wanted to try in spite of everything?"

"Because you humor me?"

"Because I love you. There, I said it again."

"I know, and I'm still reeling from the first time."

She reached out and pulled him close. "You'll get used to it eventually," she murmured as she rested her forehead against his. She nudged his nose with hers before placing a quick, soft kiss on his mouth. "It'll be sunset soon. Should we start heading back?" she asked.

He gave her a gentle peck in return. "Why don't we? I don't want us to be late for our reservations."

"You still haven't told me where we're going, you know," she said reproachfully.

He nodded. "I know. It's a surprise, and I hope a very good one," he said, as he stood up and held out his hand.

She grasped it and pulled herself to her feet. "I guess I'll found out." She narrowed her eyes at him and asked, "If I let you drive on the way home, will you promise to obey the speed limit?"

"I don't make those kind of promises, Teresa," he quipped.

"Which is why I rarely let you drive, _Patrick_," she said, and barely contained the urge to stick her tongue out at him as they gathered up the blanket and made their way to the vehicle.

###

Lisbon had finally gotten her hair to cooperate when she heard the gentle tap on her bedroom door. "Are you almost done, Teresa?" Jane's voice filtered through.

"Yes, I'll be out in a minute," she called back. Who would've thought that the simple upswept 'do would fight her for fifteen solid minutes? Thank goodness she'd left her hair until last. She took a last glance at herself in the full-length mirror, touched up her lipstick, and nodded. She was ready.

Jane was waiting in the living room as she started down the stairs. He turned to get his first look at her. They both froze in their tracks, each taking in the appearance of the other.

He was wearing one of his innumerable three-piece suits, but the cut and style were different from the usual. Lisbon could only think "still old-fashioned, but in a different way". She had to admire it nonetheless. It was in a shade of blue-gray like an early morning, and to top it all off there was a matching hat, set at an appropriately rakish angle. She wasn't even a fan of hats, but he made it work somehow.

Jane, meanwhile, was just as struck. Lisbon had dug around and found a dress she'd bought some years previously but never worn. It had a v-neck that was modest while still being interesting and a perfectly draped skirt that fell to just below her knees. It was the deepest, darkest blue he'd ever seen, and the fabric was shot through with silver threads that glinted in the slightest light. The effect was as if she'd taken a piece of starry night sky and wrapped it around herself.

Lisbon spoke first. "Hm, we kind of match, even though we don't," she said as she descended the rest of the stairs.

Jane blinked a few times, and then smiled at her. "You're right, shades of blue without being the same. We're so effortlessly coordinated! Shall we go?"

"Absolutely," she said. He offered his arm, she took it, and they walked out together. When he guided her to his car instead of hers she balked slightly. "We're going in this contraption?"

"Yep, and I'm driving because I know where we're going," he replied as he opened the car door for her.

She situated herself and waited as he climbed in. "Okay, so where **are** we going?" she asked.

"It's a nightclub called 'The Gate'," he answered as he started the engine and pulled away. "They play mostly 'singers and swing'-era stuff, and period dress is encouraged. Hence the hat; don't think I didn't notice you giving it the raised eyebrow," he added with a grin.

"Oh dear," Lisbon said with pretend concern. "Do I need to go back and change?"

"Don't you dare," Jane said quickly. "You look stunning."

"Thank you," she said with a pleased flush in her cheeks. "It is a beautiful dress."

"It's a nice dress, Teresa, but **you **make it beautiful," he corrected gently, and cast an affectionate glance over at her. She blushed even deeper at the compliment.

They rode in comfortable silence the rest of the way.

###

The Gate nightclub was almost exactly as Lisbon had pictured it from Jane's brief description. Lots of dark wood, dim lighting, and period decorations gave it a mid-twentieth century atmosphere. The musical selection, however, was a little more eclectic than she'd originally thought. Going along with the "nothing as expected" theme that had started with the overcast weather, tonight was guest DJ night. Jane had visibly cringed when they'd found that out at the door.

"Oh no," he'd whined. "The last time I was here on guest DJ night they got this twenty-year-old who had no idea of what music to play. Pretty much anything before 1970 was fair game. We were favored with everything from Bing Crosby and Frank Sinatra, who were perfectly appropriate, to 'Macarthur Park', which caused the nearest thing I've ever seen to a riot in this establishment."

"Should I be worried?" Lisbon asked with a laugh.

Jane paused, considering. "No, it should be fine. I just hope they… oh damn, it's the same kid! I'm sorry, but now we need to go, Teresa. I'm not sitting through all nineteen minutes of 'Alice's Restaurant' again." He started to put himself together to get ready to leave.

She reached out and placed a hand on his arm. "So everything isn't going according to _your_ perfect arrangement either, Patrick. The beach trip turned out to be perfectly enjoyable, and I'm sure this will, too. On our way in, you said the food is excellent?"

"Yes, it is, but-"

"But nothing," she interrupted. "We're both hungry. This place really does seem very nice, and I trust your taste… mostly. Let's stay," she finished, and smiled up at him.

He grinned back at her. "All right, you win. We'll stay. But the moment that 'Winchester Cathedral' comes over the speakers, I'm exiting the building."

She laughed and nodded. "Deal."

###

As it turned out, the meal _was_ excellent, and the company so charming that Jane quickly forgot all of his misgivings. He and Lisbon maintained the same easy comfort of their afternoon at the beach, despite the different costumes and setting.

They'd been shown to a horseshoe-shaped booth in burgundy leather, and had taken the opportunity to sit close together. Once they'd finished their food, Jane's arm had slipped around Lisbon's shoulders. She'd sighed and leaned against him as they continued their conversation.

Hours later, Jane was in the middle of a particularly amusing anecdote when the song playing in the background changed. He winced. "Oh dear."

Lisbon listened for a moment to the opening strains. "This is 'You Only Live Twice', isn't it? The theme from the Bond movie?"

Jane nodded with a pained expression. "I told you, anything before 1970 is fair game to that youngster."

Lisbon listened as Nancy Sinatra began to sing, _"__You only live twice or so it seems, One life for yourself and one for your dreams…"_ Privately, she agreed that this song didn't match the setting at all, though she'd always secretly been fond of it.

She glanced at Jane and raised an eyebrow at the final chorus. _"This dream is for you, so pay the price, Make one dream come true, you only live twice__."_

"Don't look at me," he said. "I didn't request it."

"I know, but it does seem oddly appropriate, don't you think?" she asked.

"To our situation, you mean? Meh, everyone occasionally needs to be reminded to seize the chance at love and happiness, not just you and I."

"I won't argue that point," she said, and then went quiet for a moment, looking thoughtful. "You said you didn't request it. Do they take requests?"

"Yes," he answered, "Why?"

"I'll be back in a moment," she replied cryptically, and slid out of the booth.

Jane watched her as she moved over and spoke to the DJ. He smiled as she easily brushed off the clumsy attempt at flirting she got in return for her song request. "Everything settled?" he asked on her return.

"Mmhm, he said that he'd play it next," she said. Then she laughed and went on, "He also offered to give me his number, but I politely told him that I was spoken for. I just didn't have the heart to tell him I could've baby-sat for him in high-school." She cuddled up close to him again and sighed. "Not my usual choice of venue, but I have to admit this is a great place, Patrick. I wouldn't mind coming here again."

"Of course. We can even make it regular thing, if you'd like. We'll just make sure to check the guest DJ schedule ahead, next time," he said ruefully, and she chuckled. "What song did you ask for, Teresa? I know this isn't necessarily your favorite genre of music."

"No, but there are a number of songs in this style that I like," she said, and perked up when she heard the first few notes. "Like this one."

Jane heard Ella Fitzgerald start "_I try to think that love's not around, But it's uncomfortably near, My old heart ain't gaining no ground, Because my angel eyes ain't here."_ He was surprised at Lisbon's choice, but not unhappy. After all, "Angel Eyes" **was** a good song, and Ella's version was particularly languid and haunting.

Lisbon leaned on Jane's shoulder as the song continued, _"Angel eyes, that old devil sent, They glow unbearably bright, Need I say that my love's misspent, Misspent with angel eyes tonight."_

She looked up as she felt Jane shift next to her, and gasped softly. He was watching her intently. His pupils were so dilated they nearly eclipsed his irises, and the warmth in his gaze was palpable. Her left hand went up to cup his cheek as she tilted her head to kiss him.

Their lips met, and his parted almost immediately. She slipped her tongue into his mouth and gave him a slow lick, pleased at the stifled moan that rumbled in his throat. The arm he'd slipped around her shoulders tightened, and his other hand slid over her thigh and hip to rest at her waist. He drew her closer, and she settled against him with a happy sigh.

When they broke apart, he rested his cheek against her smooth hair and whispered, "Don't look now, but our poor waitress is on her way over. I believe she's been waiting and praying for us to come up for air so she could drop off the check."

She laughed softly and kept her face pressed against his neck. "It must be time for us to head out of here, then," came her muffled reply.

"Really?" he asked. "It's only half past midnight. Are you thinking about bed, sweetheart?"

She didn't answer him at first. And when she eased back out of his arms she didn't look right at him. She glanced at his mouth instead, and reached up to smooth a few traces of her lipstick from his lower lip with her thumb. Then she met his gaze, her eyes sparkling and liquid with desire, and nodded before murmuring softly, "Take me to bed, Patrick."

###

They were already stumbling and disheveled from kisses when they made their way back into Lisbon's apartment. She closed and locked the door behind them after they'd entered, and at once found herself pressed against it as Jane placed hot, wet kisses on her neck. She made pleased sounds and slid her hands over his back.

He pulled her further into the room with him, and that's when he tripped. Both of them struggled for balance, but wound up falling tangled together onto her couch. She looked to see what he'd tripped over, and saw their little robot vacuum zipping away to another part of the room.

"That's _it_, TDR," she growled. "You are getting tossed out of the window like a Frisbee!"

"Now, now, Teresa, relax. We're fine, right? It's just dark and I couldn't see it," he said in an effort to placate her.

"That thing is going to die by firing squad one of these days, Patrick. I don't want you to break your neck because it's lying in wait to trip you."

"It wasn't lying in wait, it was just making its usual rounds of the carpet. Besides," he continued. "I'll take any trip that ends with you in my arms."

She groaned. "Okay, and with that one statement you've filled your 'corny line in an attempt to be charming' quota for this entire evening."

"Did it work anyway?" he asked as he tugged her closer again.

She nodded and gave him a brief, fierce kiss. "Come on," she said, standing and beckoning him to follow her.

They were quiet as she led him up the stairs, keeping his hand in hers the entire time. She pulled at him again when he hesitated next to the door of the guest room, making it clear they weren't stopping there. She continued to her own bedroom, opened the door and drew him inside.

"Teresa, I love you. And I will happily do anything you want. But we don't have to-" Jane started, but was cut off by another kiss.

"I love you, too, okay? And enough is enough, already," she mumbled against his mouth before kissing him more firmly.

Her lamp was off, so it was only the moonlight that slanted through her window that leant any definition to the darkness of her room. When she pulled away from him and began unbuttoning his jacket, vest and finally his shirt, he inhaled sharply. But he made no move to help or hinder her, letting her set the pace.

She moved around behind him to slide them off, her care in their removal a sharp contrast to the untidy pile they made as she dropped them on the floor. She placed a kiss between his shoulder blades as she undid his belt and pants, quickly adding the whole jumble to the pile with a careful tug. He stepped out of them and turned to face her.

"I'm feeling at a bit of a disadvantage here," he whispered. She smiled and turned around, presenting the back of her dress.

"Go ahead," she said. His nimble fingers rapidly found the narrow zipper and drew it down, and the dress that had draped her curves so gracefully all evening slid off and made a pool at her feet. "Better?" she asked as she turned towards him again.

He looked down at her and smiled. "Much," he replied. One hand went to her hair as he gently undid the clasp and let the waves tumble down past her shoulders. He stepped back for a brief moment and smiled. The pad of one fingertip brushed over her skin as he asked. "The midnight-blue satin set?"

"Your favorite," she said with a wink, and laughed. The laugh became a sigh as he undid the front clasp and slid the bra down and off her arms. She settled back against his chest, the warmth of his skin against hers melting any last shreds of uncertainty.

He kissed her again before backing up and sitting down heavily on her bed. She moved to stand in front of him, and stroked his cheek tenderly. She took his hand and placed it on her hip, letting him know that it was all right for him to remove the last barrier of clothing between them.

Cool sheets warmed as they slid between them. Each kiss Jane gave her seemed to burn Lisbon pleasantly, and the sensual tingle on her skin reached all the way to her toes.

He had rolled above her when he pulled away one more time. "I love you. And I will do anything you want," he said again. "But this one time I can't make it easy on you. I need you to tell me, Teresa. You have to say it."

His last coherent thought was not about the smooth skin of her thighs as they wrapped around his hips. It wasn't even about the loving grasp of her arms twining around his shoulders and neck. It was about her whisper in his ear, in a voice near breathless with longing, which went straight through to his heart.

And all she had said, all that she'd been _able_ to say, was "Yes."

**TBC… song lyrics are from "You Only Live Twice" and "Angel Eyes", respectively.**


	16. Now That Night Is Gone

**Disclaimer: I may love them, but I don't own them.**

**A/N: In this installment, we see Jane and Lisbon dealing with the events of last chapter. What will the "morning after" be like? Will other people notice a change when they return to the office on Monday? And will we ever find out what **_**really**_** happened to Jane's mind? Warnings: adult situations, adult references and brief language.**

**Someone Else's Life**

**Chapter 16: Now That Night Is Gone**

Lisbon woke suddenly. The moon had set, and her eyes were blinking in the darkness as she realized what had disturbed her. Jane was no longer in her grasp. He had, in his sleep, pulled away and crowded himself against her bedroom wall. Now he was whimpering and thrashing.

She shook her head sadly at the return of his nightmares. She reached towards him with a comforting hand and stroked whatever skin she could reach. "Wake up, Patrick. It's a dream. You're safe," she said.

His eyes snapped open. He stared, unfocused, at her for a moment. "What? I don't…" he began before trailing off, confused and still muddled with sleep.

"It's okay. It was only a dream," she repeated and snuggled close to him, her cool skin warming again quickly.

His brow furrowed. "All of this seems familiar. Is this only a dream, too?"

"No, it's not," she murmured and kissed him softly. "This is real."

Jane let out what Lisbon could only think of as a sigh of deep relief before kissing her back. His arms wrapped around her and held her tight, his stress easing as the intimacy of their embrace increased.

She nibbled his lower lip lightly, and failed to contain a soft chuckle when she felt his arousal pressing against her. She broke away and whispered, "I guess you're feeling better."

He rested his forehead against hers for a moment. "Being with you works wonders, love," he said, and the sincerity in his tone contrasted with the rather flip remark. He then tilted his head and began placing kisses on her neck.

She arched into his touch. She started running her fingertips over his chest and along his sides, smiling at his pleased hum against her skin. "Are you sure you're all right?" she asked.

"Mmhm, or at least, I will be," he said. "But right now, darling, I need you. I need-"

"Shh, yes," she told him, the word escaping with almost embarrassing ease and hardly any further thought as she sought out his lips again.

###

They alternated between dozing and whispered conversation afterwards. So many things that had been so hard to say before came easily in the dark of that night. But when the sun rose, silence fell. The weight of what they'd done settled over them, and they lay in bed together without speaking for several hours.

Lisbon got up first, pulling on a robe before padding out to the bathroom. When she came back Jane had turned away from the door. The sheet had slipped down to his waist, and she saw a criss-cross of red welts on his back. "Damn it," she said, and could see his muscles tense.

He asked, "What's wrong?" His tone was carefully calm, but she had learned to recognize the harmonic of anxiety behind it.

She stretched and stroked over his skin carefully. "I hurt you," she said unhappily.

"What?" he said, not understanding her. He sat up and twisted slightly, trying to see what she meant. "Oh sweetheart, because you dug up my back a little in your… enthusiasm?" he asked and flashed her a grin. "It's fine."

"It looks painful, Patrick," she said.

He took her hand and squeezed it reassuringly. "I can barely feel it, really," he said, and paused a moment before continuing, "Honestly, Teresa, I didn't even notice. I'm too happy."

She finally smiled back and tugged on his hand. "Let's get up."

###

They were in an odd situation that Sunday, trying to interact as old friends and new lovers. They were simultaneously more and less relaxed with each other. Moments when, before, she would've moved closer to him, Lisbon found herself oddly drawing away. Sometimes in the middle of a sentence she would trail off self-consciously, and Jane would look up to see her blushing. He didn't ask why, however; he didn't have to.

"What should we do about breakfast?" Jane asked.

"I'm in the mood for waffles. Would you like that?" Lisbon asked in turn.

"Sounds lovely, my dear, but I don't make them." Jane said.

"I do. I have to dig the machine out of the cupboard, that's all. Come on, you can help me," she said with a smile.

"Are you sure? You've kept your cooking to a minimum while I've been here. It's reinforced my original impression that you don't like it very much."

"Oh, I don't know. Maybe I just like your cooking better than mine," she said, winking as she shrugged.

"You've been holding out on me all this time? Really, Teresa, it's not fair to trick me like that. I'm starting to feel ill used as a house guest."

"Then let me start making it up to you today. Grab the big metal mixing bowl down for me, would you please?" she asked, and indicated its current resting place on top of the cupboard. "And here's a tip: if you want me to cook occasionally, don't put things where I can't reach them."

"And miss the chance to earn your gratitude by getting them for you?" Jane laughed and brought it down, then turned and presented it to her with much ceremony. She smiled as she took it.

Despite the attempt at their usual banter, Lisbon could feel a different atmosphere between them. But she did notice that Jane seemed less awkward with the situation than she felt. She wanted to chalk it up to his natural ease in nearly every situation, but a tiny part of her worried that the reason he was more comfortable was that, in his mind, this wasn't a first time for them at all. She tried to push that fear aside, at least for now.

Soon after, they were seated at her kitchen table, informally dressed and contentedly munching. Even though it had been a while, Lisbon was happy that she hadn't lost her touch with the waffle iron altogether.

"These are perfect," Jane praised between bites. "You'll have to do them at least a couple times a month from now on."

"I might be persuaded to, with the right incentive," she answered with a grin. But she sobered quickly. "What are we going to do tomorrow?" she asked him seriously.

"What do you mean?" he countered.

"I mean, we're going back to work. And I don't want… all this to change things."

He was silent for a moment, then he spoke again. "I'm not going to lie and say this doesn't change anything, Teresa. We're both adults and we know it doesn't work that way. But I don't see that it has to alter our professional life. We can keep acting like we always do."

Her eyes narrowed. "_Really_. You're going to keep being a reckless pain in the neck, and I'm going to continue being your long suffering boss?"

He had to snicker, but shook his head. "Not what I meant. We just need to act as near as possible to 'normal for us'. That way, there'll be no change for people to gossip about. Well, any more than they already do, that is."

She took her last bite of waffle, then set her fork down and frowned. "They already do, huh?"

"Definitely, my dear," Jane said with a nod. "Before my injury, around half of the CBI thought we were sleeping together. Now it's closer to two-thirds."

Lisbon let her face fall into her palm. "Okay, I had a feeling but I didn't know it was that bad."

"Relax," he said, and reached across the table to pat her arm encouragingly. "It doesn't matter what anyone thinks. Trust me, tomorrow will be perfectly fine."

"Always so confident," she muttered wryly, but inside she hoped he was right.

###

When Monday came, Lisbon was so buried in paperwork that she hardly had the time to feel awkward or self-conscious. She spent much of her morning barricaded in her office, sorting through forms she hadn't seen in months. –Did they save everything up to dump on me today?- she wondered silently.

Jane spent most of _his_ time finding amusement in the bullpen with the team. He was just about to show Van Pelt the silver dollar trick when he glanced up and saw Lisbon trudging purposefully towards the kitchenette. "Hold that thought, Grace," he said hurriedly, and went to meet her there.

The team peeked surreptitiously at Jane and Lisbon as they chatted and got their respective drinks. Lisbon grinned widely at something Jane said as she poured her coffee.

"They seem very friendly today," said Rigsby from the corner of his mouth. "I wonder what they're talking about."

"The usual, probably," Cho said. "Jane's making light of something the boss hates and she's happy he agrees with her about it."

"They slept together over the weekend," chimed in Van Pelt quietly.

"Grace!" Rigsby hissed. "Shh!"

She stared at him. "What? I'm not announcing it over the loud speaker. I'm just saying, something's changed between them and I'm pretty sure that's it. Look how at ease they are with each other."

"Come on, Grace, ew," Rigsby said. "I don't want to know about that."

"Seconded," said Cho in a clipped tone.

Van Pelt rolled her eyes. "Well, **I** think it's sweet. They're both lonely and they're in love with each other; wouldn't it be romantic if they could be happy together?" she continued in a hushed voice.

"I'm exiting this conversation," said Cho as he walked back to his desk.

"I'm about ready to exit this _building_," said Rigsby loudly.

"Why is that?" asked Jane as he strolled back to where they were standing.

Rigsby jumped slightly in surprise. "Oh! Uh… for a coffee run!" he said lamely. "I was about to go get coffee for the three of us. Did you want anything, Jane?"

"No, I'm all set. But why don't I go? I could use a little fresh air," Jane offered. "I'll even make it my treat, guys. Tell me what you'd like."

###

No one on the team said a single word, but Van Pelt, Cho and Rigsby weren't the only ones watching the comfortable interaction of Jane and Lisbon with each other. Jane was only out for around twenty minutes, but it took much less time than that for the gossip mill of the CBI to begin churning.

###

Jane had exited the elevator with an armload from the coffee cart when he heard a familiar voice call out to him from behind. "Hey, Jane!" –Rooney,- he thought, and sighed inwardly. –Just who I don't want to deal with.-

Warren Rooney was a lead agent in the Vice unit, although Jane privately believed he'd joined more due to perverted curiosity than any real desire to help people or fight crime. He _was_ tall and handsome, but unfortunately that was all he had going for him. Arrogant, rude, and (to Jane perhaps the worst of all) completely and tediously uninteresting, Rooney was someone he often avoided on principle.

He rolled his eyes before turning around and saying "Good morning, Rooney. What can I do for you? You can see I'm a little overloaded at present." –And I dislike talking to you even when I'm not,- he added mentally.

"You can start by accepting my congratulations on finally getting St. Teresa into the sack. How'd you manage it?" Rooney said with a leer.

Jane raised an eyebrow. "Excuse me?" he asked, genuinely wondering if he'd heard the man correctly.

"No need to be bashful! I just wonder why it took a smooth talker like you so long to make time with her. How is Special Senior Agent Lisbon in bed, anyway?"

Jane bared his teeth in a smile entirely without friendliness, and said, "I guess at this point I'm supposed to either confirm or deny this rumor, right? I have no plans to do either. I will ask you a question in turn, however; why don't you ask her yourself, instead of me?"

As Rooney's smirk faltered, Jane continued. "You don't actually have to answer, I already know why. Because in your cowardice you believe that she'd punch you in the face and I never would, and I have to say you're absolutely right. Lisbon might cheerfully dislocate your jaw for showing her that kind of disrespect, whereas I wouldn't soil my knuckles on you."

Jane noticed the growing number of people that had gathered in the hallway as he made his final pronouncement. "Have a delightful rest of your day, Agent Rooney. Be careful not to trip and fall down the stairs on your way home tonight; we all know how clumsy you can be!" he said. The grin returned as he added, "And try giving your prurient interest a rest for once, you nosy little creep," before turning and walking away.

He listened to the laughter behind him, and allowed himself a small chuckle as he continued to the bullpen to give Cho, Rigsby and Van Pelt their coffee orders. Planting a suggestion like that really _was_ rather unkind, but given the circumstances Jane couldn't honestly say he felt very bad about it at all.

###

Lisbon and Jane were having lunch together in her office two hours later. Jane had mentioned the exchange he'd had with Rooney in the hall, and Lisbon shook her head. "So much for everyone having nothing to gossip about," she grumbled. But she'd laughed at the end of the story, and privately wondered if Rooney would indeed stumble down the stairs this evening.

They had finished their food, and were chitchatting quietly when Lisbon's desk phone rang. Checking the caller ID, she frowned. "It's your neurologist, Patrick. Didn't you go to your monthly visit to Dr. Mendez last week?"

"You know I did," Jane said. "I missed that whole afternoon's bust because of it."

"I thought so. Then why is he calling now?" she asked as she picked up the receiver. "Hello?"

"Agent Lisbon? This is Dr. Mendez, and I have some important news about Mr. Jane's most recent group of tests."

Lisbon took a deep breath. "Mr. Jane is in my office with me right now, doctor. Can I put you on speaker phone?"

"Absolutely," Dr. Mendez replied.

She tapped the button. "Okay, doctor," she said, "We're here."

"Hello, Dr. Mendez," Jane said unenthusiastically. "I thought I wouldn't hear from you for another three weeks."

"Normally, you wouldn't," the doctor answered. "But your most recent MRI, when compared with the last scan done, shows some notable changes. I'd like you to come in again as soon as we can schedule a non-conflicting time."

"That shouldn't be an issue, doctor," said Lisbon. "As his boss, I think Mr. Jane's hours can be flexed to accommodate an important medical issue."

"What about yours, Agent Lisbon? I believe you should be present for at least part of the consult as well," the doctor said.

Lisbon stammered slightly, but Jane cut in with "I'm sure Agent Lisbon can use some of the many hours of vacation time she's banked for something _so_ important." His tone was slightly mocking, but the sarcasm was lost on the doctor.

"It really would be for the best, as Agent Lisbon is the focus of so much of the 'phantom-life brain activity', as we've come to refer to it," Dr. Mendez said sincerely. "I'd also like to bring Dr. Solomon in at the same time, if she's available. I want her to address the psychological aspects of my physical findings."

Jane shook his head violently, but Lisbon was willing to try it. "If you think she can put more of this latest development into perspective, we'll go with your judgment, doctor."

"Excellent. I'll get in touch with her, and then get back to you to work out a time where we're all free. Is that all right?"

"I suppose," said Jane. "After all, what's our time compared to yours?"

Dr. Mendez sighed. "My apologies, Mr. Jane. I wasn't trying to suggest that our schedules were more demanding or important than yours."

"It's okay," Lisbon said while glaring at Jane. "We'll look forward to hearing back from you soon. Goodbye for now, doctor."

"Goodbye."

She clicked off the phone and rolled her eyes. "I knew there was a reason I never went to your appointments with you. Are you always so rude?" she asked Jane.

"No, not always, but they're so damned _patronizing_! 'Oh, we have special information but we can't tell you over the phone. Bring your damaged brain and the focus of your delusion in for a consultation and maybe we'll be able to put it into small enough words for you to understand.' Quacks," Jane griped. "I can't wait to be rid of them **both**."

"Maybe after this session, you will be. Did you ever consider that? And if I'm going to be accompanying you to said session, you'd better raise your behavior to a minimum of civil, Patrick."

Jane raised his hands in a gesture of surrender. "Okay, okay. But for your sake, Teresa, not theirs."

Lisbon exhaled sharply in relief. "Good. Now all we have to do is wait for him to call back."

**TBC…**


	17. His Internal Conflict

**Disclaimer: Still not mine, even after all my wishing.**

**A/N: Sorry for the long hiatus; real life intervened from several different directions. Thank you again to everyone who has been reading, reviewing, alerting, and favorite-ing! As you may have guessed, the story is winding down, and in this installment the mystery is revealed and some angst returns. Don't be surprised if the explanation is not what you imagined; I hope it will still be satisfying as I was inspired to write it.**

**Someone Else's Life**

**Chapter 17: His Internal Conflict**

Lisbon and Jane were sitting quietly and holding hands in the neurologist's waiting area eight days later. It had taken more negotiation than even Jane had predicted to find a time when all four of them (he and Lisbon and Dr. Mendez _and_ Dr. Solomon) were free to meet, but they finally had.

Now it was almost time to go in, and Lisbon felt more anxious than she'd thought she would. It wasn't her medical verdict being handed down, and Jane seemed more casually irritated with the business at hand than anything else. She, on the other hand, was a bundle of nerves.

"Do you want me to go in with you?" she asked him, breaking the silence.

He turned to her and nodded. "I believe that was the point of them asking you to come, wasn't it? Besides, I could use the moral support," he added, winking at her.

She rolled her eyes. "How can you be so calm, Patrick? God knows what they saw on that MRI scan," she snapped at him. Then she sighed and added in a much softer voice, "I'm so worried about all of this; why aren't you?"

"Of course I'm worried," he answered. "But I'm convinced that the very worst thing that they're going to tell me is that whatever caused my false memories is a permanent condition. And honestly, is that so terrible?"

"It could be, if it's the symptom of a bigger problem. And what about relapses? Do you really want to deal with them for the rest of your life?" Lisbon asked with a frown.

"Well, I rarely relapse nowadays, and whenever I do I have you and the team to remind me. And I don't have to feel bad about being in love with you anymore, do I?"

"No, you don't," she reassured him quickly. "I love you, too."

"Then whatever it is, we can handle it. We'll… what was that cliché you used? 'Roll with the punches'? It's funny; even your metaphors are violent," Jane said with a grin.

"Oh shut up," she replied, but he just kept grinning and lifted their clasped hands so he could kiss the back of hers. She couldn't help but smile at him in return.

Dr. Mendez came out into the waiting area a moment later, and Lisbon jumped slightly. She had expected Jane to be called and led back. "Hello, doctor. Are you ready for us?" she asked politely.

He shook his head. "Actually, Agent Lisbon, Dr. Solomon and I would like to speak to Mr. Jane privately first, and then bring you in. Is that acceptable to the pair of you?"

"Well, _I'm_ not thrilled about it," Jane said. "I thought it was important for both of us to attend this appointment. It involved a lot of complicated schedule juggling to make it possible, you know, and now Agent Lisbon is going to be sitting here while the two of you gang up on me?"

Dr. Mendez wore an exasperated expression. "Please, Mr. Jane, not everything is an adversarial situation. We're not 'ganging up on you'; we're trying to help you, as we have been from the beginning. And it _is _important that Agent Lisbon is here. We simply need to speak to you alone first."

"Go on, Patrick," Lisbon cut in. "Just go in there. I'm okay with waiting until it's time for me to come in."

"All right, let's get this over with," Jane said with a resigned sigh, and stood. He smiled once more at Lisbon, and then followed the doctor into the office.

###

Jane sat in front of the familiar desk in Dr. Mendez's personal office, and once again scanned the room he'd become so well acquainted with over the past three months. He looked over the degrees on the wall, felt sorry for the obviously dying plant in the corner, and alphabetized the most visible bookshelf in his head. Everything seemed pretty much the same since his last visit, apart from the presence of Dr. Solomon. This was not a particularly welcome change.

He kept the dislike from showing on his face, but he couldn't help feeling it. Apart from the genuinely helpful Sophie Miller, therapists were pretty low on his list of favorite people. The only real useful trait in the majority of them was the ease in which they were fooled.

Jane looked her over and considered. –We haven't seen each other in a while, so now she's going to attempt to establish a stronger connection by forcing familiarity. Probably by using my first name,- he thought, and noted with satisfaction when Dr. Solomon smiled at him warmly and asked, "How are you today, Patrick?"

"Well enough, _Lydia_. How are you?" he asked, and smirked as her smile twitched.

"I'm fine, thank you for asking. Now, I assume you have some questions before Dr. Mendez and I start going over the MRI findings with you? Now is your opportunity to ask them."

"How thoughtful. Right now I'd very much like to know why Agent Lisbon was asked to wait outside."

"It's a little complicated, but the simplest answer is that some of the information we're going to discuss with you is extremely private," she answered. "We feel that you should be the one to make the ultimate decision as to who you share it with."

Jane frowned. "That sounds ominous. But go on."

"Dr. Mendez, would you please start? Patrick should hear the physical findings first, I think."

"Certainly," Dr. Mendez said with a nod. He retrieved some print outs from a file and placed them on the desk between them. The scans were facing Jane, but in spite of his growing familiarity with neural anatomy he waited to be told what he was looking at. "The scan on the left is the one we did while you were in your coma, Mr. Jane, and the one on the right is from two weeks ago."

"Alright, now that I know which is which, enlighten me as to why you called me in."

"Mr. Jane, I'm not sure how technical you want me to be, so for the sake of simplicity I'm going to avoid most medical terms and indicate places on the scan instead. Is that acceptable?"

"Certainly. I won't know what you're talking about if you call things by their proper names, so you're going to talk down to me and point a lot. I'm not offended. I'm not even surprised."

Dr. Mendez sighed, but ignored the jab. "Right here," he began, using a pen and pointing to an area on the left scan as he spoke, "Is the area that was the most damaged during the original injury. You can see this on the initial scan."

"I'll take your word for it," Jane said evenly, though his patience was already wearing thin. "Please continue."

"To put this in context, Mr. Jane… well, when you and I were children and learning about the brain, we were told that brain cells couldn't heal themselves and were not replaced. Damaged cells were lost brain matter, period. Even two decades ago this was a commonly held belief."

"Very true," interjected Dr. Solomon at this point. "It's only fairly recently that it's been confirmed as not being the case."

"Exactly," Dr. Mendez said with a nod. "And as we can see when we make the comparison to the scan taken two weeks ago, your brain has done a remarkable amount of rebuilding in three months' time."

"Well, that's good, isn't it?" Jane asked. "Excellent job, my brain; fight that damage! Why couldn't you have given me this news over the phone? And why is Agent Lisbon not supposed to hear this from anyone before I decide so?"

"We're not finished, Mr. Jane," Dr. Mendez replied. "Please be patient. This area of your brain has to do with your long term-memory. And we think the damage that you suffered created the 'other life' with an alternate history between you and Agent Lisbon."

"Keep going, because I'm still not really getting the significance here. It seems like such a straightforward explanation; what took you so long to arrive at it?"

Dr. Solomon spoke up again. "Well for one thing, Patrick, you exhibited some less common psychological effects which I'll discuss now, if Dr. Mendez is finished for the moment."

"Yes, go ahead, Dr. Solomon."

"Patrick, you kept all of your memories intact to a certain point. Your memory of your family's murder remained clear, for example."

Jane looked at her coldly. "Perfectly, but we're not talking about that."

"Not directly, no. But it does have a bearing on this. The cells responsible for maintaining the memories of your life dealing with Agent Lisbon were damaged, but not destroyed. During your coma, your brain began to heal itself, but found gaps in your recollections. I believe that it took the emotions you associated with Agent Lisbon and tried to put them into a context you no longer could draw on, due to the injury."

Jane feigned confusion, though he was actually following right along at this point. "So during my coma I didn't know who she was to me, and my brain filled in the gap based on my feelings towards her."

"Essentially. Your brain found the connected feelings of romantic love, compared them to your past experience and substituted 'wife' for the missing association indicator."

"Pretty much meaning that I was in love with her before the injury, the coma, the false memories, everything? Long before, in fact, based on how far the false memories went back?" Jane asked with a raised eyebrow.

Dr. Solomon shrugged. "You're the only one who can truly answer that question, Patrick, brain damage or not. But it's my strong impression that that is the case. Now you can see why we wanted to keep this discussion private."

"I suppose I can. It's something she should hear from me, not a therapist. But what about all the little details, and the extensive alternate history? This doesn't really cover that."

"Correct, and I'd like to try another way of getting to the root of those things. Are you at all familiar with hypnosis, Patrick?"

Jane tried desperately not to laugh. "Somewhat. Why?"

"Because I'd like to try putting you under, and seeing what information might be accessible that way." Dr. Solomon said.

"I don't know if I'd be a fantastic subject," Jane said evasively. "I'm fairly contrary, as you already know. Can you be sure you could do it?"

Dr. Solomon shook her head. "Sure before I even tried? No. But there are some things that would make it easier. Did you bring a dose of your prescription sleep aid like I asked?"

"Yes, although I don't use it very regularly anymore."

"That's alright, the drug will still be helpful. The active ingredient is chemically similar to one specifically used to aid in bringing on a hypnotic state."

"I'm almost surprised that's not included in the marketing," Jane quipped.

The psychiatrist sighed. "Seriously, Patrick, what do you think of my proposal?"

"Honestly? I think it's time to call Agent Lisbon in here."

###

Lisbon took in her surroundings for what felt like the millionth time as she sat by herself in the waiting area. It had the required hideous carpet of the average medical waiting room, and the walls reminded her of the odd stucco that had been on the walls of her very first apartment. But instead of enormous sweeping strokes in the paint, the texture here was like rough sandpaper. She'd learned quickly not to even brush against it the only other time she'd come here; a set of scraped knuckles had driven the lesson home.

She let her mind go back to this morning. They'd both been so nervous about it that sleeping last night had been difficult, and getting ready to go to the appointment hadn't been easy for the two of them. -Not that our nights and mornings are ever exactly straightforward anyway,- she thought.

His clothes had stayed in the guest bedroom, but Jane himself hadn't gone back there to stay since the night they'd first made love. Despite no discussion aloud, there was never a question of whether he wanted to remain in her bed, or whether she wanted him there. Even those times when all they did was sleep, like last night. After hours of tossing and turning he'd finally dropped off in her arms, his ear over her heart. He did that often, the thumping beat a comfort to him.

There was only really one thing that bothered Lisbon now, at least when it came to the bedroom arrangements. It was when he'd reach for her and then hesitate. It wasn't guilt; she could tell that by the look on his face. It was more like fear, as though he didn't dare touch her lest she evaporate and leave him alone again. She guessed that it made sense, especially since he was still trying so hard to keep his grip on reality.

But somehow it still stung a little, which made no sense at all, did it? Was it so bad to be the one to cross the distance each time, to take his hand and reassure him that it wasn't a dream anymore? Maybe there was her own fear, too; the fear of having to deal with it every night for as long as they were together.

Lisbon shook her head; these thoughts were getting her nowhere, but they crowded around when she had nothing else to focus on. How long was she going to have to wait in here?

As if on cue, Dr. Solomon came into the room and called to her. "Agent Lisbon? We're ready to talk to the both of you together now, if you'll come with me."

Lisbon nodded and got up, wiping her palms on her knees as she did.

###

"You want to try and hypnotize him?" Lisbon asked incredulously. The psychiatrist had just presented the idea to her, and she was a little confused. "How would that help?"

"There's a possibility of accessing knowledge not directly available to Patrick's conscious mind. It would give us more clues as to where all of the alternate history came from."

"It sounds like a bad idea, Patrick," Lisbon said, turning to him. "Hasn't your head been messed with enough?" she asked.

"I would tend to agree. But I would really like to know what happened, Teresa. If Dr. Solomon is successful at putting me in a trance, something could come of it," Jane said with a smile. "I'd like you to stay here for the session, though," he added in an undertone. "I need someone I can trust completely in the room."

"Do _you_ think she'll be able to put you under?"

Jane waved a hand in an unsure gesture. "It's possible. She's going to drug me first."

"What? Dr. Solomon, what on earth-"

"It's not as outrageous as it sounds, Agent Lisbon. His sleep aid medication would help him in reaching a trance state, overcoming his natural resistance."

"In all the times I've seen you hypnotize people, Patrick, you've never had to drug them first. This sounds wrong."

"You have experience hypnotizing people?" Dr. Solomon asked.

Jane ignored her. "I know, Teresa, but she obviously doesn't have a natural knack for it, just the training. Plus we both know I'm going to be a hard nugget." He reached out and took her hand. "I don't like it much either, but as long as you're here to keep them honest… well, this once I'd let them try."

"Of course I'll stay," Lisbon said immediately.

"Thank you," Jane said. "I took half the pill right before you came in, so the effects should be kicking in shortly."

"Feel free to lie down on the couch, Mr. Jane," said Dr. Mendez. "I'm going to leave for now; I have some consultations to attend. Dr. Solomon, don't hesitate to page me if I'm needed."

Lisbon began taking deep, deliberate breaths to try and ease her own nervousness. She watched as Jane stretched out on the couch and Dr. Mendez exited the office. And she listened as Dr. Solomon began, "Okay Patrick, I'd like you to start counting backwards from one hundred. Listen to the sound of my voice, I'll be counting with you."

###

Lisbon sat in the chair next to the couch and watched, as Jane appeared to enter a trance. She wasn't completely convinced; he was an excellent faker. But he seemed genuinely under when Dr. Solomon asked him to return in his mind to the day he was first injured.

"Patrick, do you know where you are?" Dr. Solomon said.

"I'm with the team at a standoff. Why did I come? I guess I wanted to prove I was right about that nut-job."

"And were you?"

"Oh yes, as usual. And the idiot's barricaded himself in his house. Like that's going to do him any good."

"Now, I want you to go forward a little to when you were shot. Don't worry; it's only a memory. The pain isn't there any more."

Jane still hissed slightly. "Right near my eye. How'd he make that shot, anyway? I wore this stupid uncomfortable bulletproof vest for nothing," he grumbled, and Lisbon covered her mouth to stifle an inappropriate chuckle. It wasn't actually funny; it was just so like him to complain.

"Do you remember what happens next?"

"No… not really. It feels like I'm falling."

"It's alright, Patrick. Let's go to the next thing you do remember."

"I can hear voices around me. The words are indistinct, but the tone is worried. They must think I'm not going to make it."

"Do the words become clear eventually?"

Jane's brow furrowed. "Yes, finally there's one very insistent voice." He smiled. "It's Lisbon, and she sounds pissed. No surprise there. And she's blaming herself like she always does, also no surprise. She's frightened, I can hear it," he says, and the grin vanished. "She's saying she would've traded places with me, as if that's what I would want. Then she leaves. I can hear her walking away."

Dr. Solomon's gaze flicked over to Lisbon, but Lisbon kept her face carefully impassive and her eyes on Jane. So the doctor decided to address him instead. "Why do you think she said that, Patrick?"

"Because she loves me. She doesn't know I know, well, she doesn't _think_ she knows I know. She also doesn't think she knows I love her back. Because we don't talk about it. Another topic on our 'no real discussions' list."

"Are there a lot of things on that list?"

"Plenty. Our life together is filled with words that we can't say. Things are already pretty complicated between us. I'm not going to be the one to make it worse."

"Why would discussing your feelings openly make it worse?"

Jane paused. "I… I don't want to talk about it."

"Well, that's up to you Patrick, but it's probably best if you did."

He heaved a deep sigh, making Lisbon wonder again how far under he truly was. "Because of me. I'm not a bad man, but I'm not a nice man. I have something terrible I still have to do, something that's going to require but not deserve Lisbon's forgiveness. It's a lot to ask of a best friend. It's too much to ask of a wife."

"A wife?" Lisbon and the psychiatrist asked at the same time.

"Of course. I'd never consider marrying anyone else. But Lisbon has enough to deal with already. I give her so much trouble," he said, and for once sounded as if he actually regretted it.

"So what do you do once she's left the room?"

He squirmed uncomfortably. "Maybe I let myself dream a little, about how things might be with her. If I'd said the things I should've said instead of what I did say in various situations. The things I _would_ have said if circumstances were different, or at least different enough. The life we could've had."

Dr. Solomon nodded in understanding. "I think your brain took your fantasies and substituted them for memories that were damaged, Patrick. It converted them during those blank spaces in your coma where you can't remember anything, building them into your cells as they healed. And that's why you woke up and thought you were married to Teresa."

"Is that all it was? It seemed so real," Jane replied.

"In your mind it was real, as real as any other memory you had."

"Can he hear me?" Lisbon asked softly, and Dr. Solomon shook her head. "Ask him how he knew about the dental floss and the underwear. He'll know what I'm referring to."

"How did you know about the dental floss and the underwear, Patrick?"

Jane chuckled. "Observations made and stored for later never cease to amaze, do they? I used Lisbon's bathroom once while lying in wait for a suspect. The second drawer of the medicine cabinet was open, and there were two new packages of dental floss there. Obviously that's where she kept them," he said, and then sighed a little sadly. "I guess in my dreams I knew because I lived there with her."

"And the other?"

"The matching midnight blue set? She circled it in a catalog that she threw away in her office wastebasket. Maybe sometimes I snoop in there. I'm glad she got it; I knew by looking it would suit her."

Lisbon blushed, but didn't say anything more. She'd definitely have to keep a closer eye on him when he was in her office from now on, though.

"Patrick, do you think you can tell the reality from the dream memories? Can you recognize them now after knowing where they came from?"

"Oh yes, I'm familiar with my own fantasies, thank you."

"In that case, I think you should keep that in mind and separate everything out. I want you to remember what we've talked about."

"Yes, I will."

"One more question, Patrick; do you still plan on keeping a relationship with Teresa strictly a dream?"

Jane frowned. "I don't want to talk about that. It's private."

"Be that as it may, I want to point out the fact that knowing how you two feel, forcibly keeping yourselves apart is unfair to both of you."

He actually snorted at that. "Oh doctor, when has life ever been fair, especially to either of us?"

"I'm going to start counting down, Patrick. When I reach zero, you will shift into normal sleep. When the pill you took wears off, you'll wake up and everything we've talked about will be clear in your mind." Dr. Solomon then began counting backwards.

When she finished, Jane took a deep breath and exhaled sharply. His breathing then shifted and became regular and even. Lisbon eyed him for a moment, and then turned to Dr. Solomon. "How long will he be out?" Lisbon asked.

"It was a very reduced dose, and the session was long. I'd say another hour at most," the doctor replied.

"Then I'll just wait here," Lisbon said, and settled back into her chair to do so.

A little over an hour later, Jane began to stir. He rubbed his eyes and looked around as the room came back into focus. He glanced over at the chair next to him and smiled. "Hello, Lisbon," he said.

-_Lisbon_,- she thought. –He hasn't called me Lisbon in all this time. I should be happy, shouldn't I, now that the last bit of normalcy has returned? So why does it feel wrong?-

She realized he was staring at her. "Hi, Jane," she replied softly, forcing the words past the lump in her throat.

###

The ride back to her apartment was silent. Jane attempted conversation a few times, but Lisbon didn't feel like talking.

The rest of the day was very much the same. Apart from a few quiet answers to direct questions, Lisbon didn't say much of anything. Their easy banter had evaporated for the time being, it seemed.

They were so exhausted that they made it an early evening. Quietly the two of them climbed the stairs. He followed right behind her, and she paused outside her bedroom. She turned and pulled him close for a hug. He smiled and kissed the top of her head, expecting her to take his hand and lead him in, as she had in the nights before.

So it was an unpleasant surprise when she drew back and said "Goodnight, Jane." She then walked into her room and shut the door behind her, leaving him standing alone in the darkened hallway.

**TBC…**


	18. Unhappy Decisions

**Disclaimer: Not mine. Still. Seriously.**

**A/N: Oh dear, the angst-y plotbunnies really had a field day with this installment. Chapter 18 includes Jane and Lisbon dealing with the ripples caused by the therapy session, including some tough questions. The answers might not make them very happy, either. Brief language.**

**Someone Else's Life**

**Chapter 18: Unhappy Decisions**

Three days after the doctor's appointment, Jane and Lisbon were still shaken by the results of the hypnosis session. He maintained as clear a memory of it as she did, but they hadn't really discussed it. Or much of anything else, for that matter; Jane couldn't remember the last time Lisbon had been so quiet around him. Outside of the office, she didn't really talk much at all.

He'd decided that three days was enough, however. So when she said that she had some work to catch up on and told him to head to her apartment without her, he'd agreed. He made her favorite dinner, a plan forming in his mind. They were going to work this out, one way or another, and relaxing her with food seemed like a good way to begin.

Jane heard the apartment door open and shut. "Hey, Lisbon, welcome home!" he called from the kitchen. "When you said you were going to stay a bit later at the CBI, I didn't think you meant four _hours_ later."

"Sorry about that, Jane," Lisbon replied in a tired voice. "I guess I lost track of time."

"It's all right, just put your things down and come sit. I made dinner."

"You did?" she asked as she wandered in to meet him. Her face fell as she saw how much work he'd done. "Damn, Jane, I'm sorry. I figured since I was so late you'd just grab something for yourself so I ate at the office."

He frowned briefly, but rallied. "No, no, that's okay. I'll tell you what, I can portion out a bit and you can take it for lunch tomorrow."

She nodded gratefully. "That sounds nice, Jane, thank you." She rubbed her eyes and sighed. "I'm beat. I'm going to go to bed."

"Really?" he asked. This wasn't what he was hoping for at all. "It's still early, Lisbon. Maybe we could sit together in the living room for a while first?"

She stiffened. "I don't know. We've got work in the morning and I have a headache. I think I'm going to call it a night," she said, and started towards the stairs.

"Can you just _talk_ to me?" Jane asked, all pretense of calm disappearing.

Lisbon stopped and turned around to stare at him. "I talk to you everyday, Jane. We work together, we live together; I'm constantly talking to you."

He held up a hand. "At work, about work, yes. But every since the doctor's appointment you've barely spoken a full sentence to me about anything personal. We have to talk about this sooner or later, you know."

She looked at him for a moment, and then sighed again. "You want a full sentence about something personal, Jane? Okay, how's this one: I think it's time that you moved out."

Jane felt like the wind had been knocked out of him. It was an overused expression he'd never been comfortable applying to a personal experience, but this time it felt completely appropriate. "What brought that on?" he asked, after taking a moment to find his voice again.

"I'm sorry; can we continue this tomorrow?" Lisbon asked. "It's late, Jane, and I really don't want to get into something deep right now."

But he stood firm. "No, you brought it up. There's no way I'm going to try to sleep with that pronouncement hanging over my head," he said. "Not that I've been sleeping particularly well that last few nights by myself anyway, any more than you have."

She glared at him but didn't argue further. "Fine. I'm going to go change, and then I'll come back down and we'll talk."

"Thank you."

###

Lisbon took her time getting ready for bed, far from eager to go back downstairs and get into an awkward discussion with Jane at ten o'clock at night. But she knew he wouldn't relent. She also knew that he was right, they did have to talk. She'd started it, and she had to go and resolve it.

She could hear him moving around in the kitchen as he tidied up the meal he'd made. She really did feel bad about that; his tendency to take care of little domestic things hadn't changed following his hypnosis session. Very few things had, in fact, and that bothered her. She felt like there should have been a more definitive line drawn after he woke up with a well-sorted mind.

She shrugged out of her work clothes and into her pajamas and groaned. Her muscles ached, and her head was pounding… why on earth had she hit Jane with a loaded statement about moving out right now?

She padded slowly down the stairs, the carpet rough on her bare feet, and walked into the living room to see him already sitting on her couch. She paused for a second and took a seat in the armchair. "Okay, where were we?" she asked.

"You were kicking me out." Jane said flatly.

Lisbon winced. "I'm not kicking you out, Jane. I'm not saying you're no longer welcome. I just think that since you're finally at the point where you're confident in your ability to function normally again, you don't need to live with me anymore."

"Okay," he said.

"Well, it's true, isn't it?" she continued. "This arrangement was always meant to be a temporary one. You were injured and confused, but that isn't the case anymore. Now you can figure out a living situation that you actually want."

"Why wouldn't I 'actually want' to stay?"

"Maybe because I had to twist your arm to get you to agree to stay here in the first place? How should I know?"

"If you're just going to be sarcastic-" Jane began.

"No, I'm being serious. You actually have to do a lot more thinking about this than I do. I don't need to figure out your motives, Jane. You need to explain them to me once _you've_ figured them out."

"What about you, Lisbon? What do you want?"

She didn't meet his eyes. "I'm not sure. I always assumed that once you got better that everything would go back to the way it was before."

"It's a little late for that, don't you think?" he asked.

"What do you mean?"

He crossed his arms and scowled at her. "Don't play dumb, it doesn't suit you. We've admitted we're in love. We've made love. Things are not going to just go back to the way they were before. And I'm not sure either of us really wants them to; anyway, I don't think I do. I grant you it's not going to be easy, but we can't pretend like the last three months didn't happen. I don't see why we couldn't try being together."

She glared back. "Oh really? That's not what you said earlier. You seemed damned sure when you talked about why we _weren't_ together to the therapist. There wasn't much room for any misunderstanding there. And that reason hasn't changed in the past three months, has it?"

He inhaled sharply. "You're talking about Red John."

"No, Jane, _you_ were talking about Red John. He comes first, as usual, and I'm sick of it."

Jane's face went carefully blank. "I don't want to get into that."

"Too bad. Look, I know the question you're not asking is: why am I trying to undo what we've done? You won't like the answer, but I'm prepared to tell you anyway. I still won't lie to you, not about something important."

"All right, tell me."

"I can't come second to him, Jane. I just can't. You said you weren't willing to be with me because of him. You would come first to me, but _he_ comes first to you."

"I'm sorry that's how you interpreted what I said."

"How the hell else was I _supposed_ to interpret it?" she asked. "I hate him too, you know, but I don't hate him because of Sam, or even because of your family. I **hate** him because of what he did to you."

"What do you mean?"

"Now who's playing dumb?" she snapped. "He only left you alive to suffer, and you did. You still do. Even worse, he gave you a desire for revenge that will rot you from the soul out if you continue to let it. And don't try to tell me you don't have a soul, Patrick Jane; if you didn't, you wouldn't hurt so much."

Jane stood up. "Okay, maybe you were right. It might be too late to get into things this deep. I'll go to the guest room and see you in the morning."

"Hold on, I'm not finished," she said, and inhaled deeply before continuing. "I want you to have a real life again, a life that gives you genuine joy, whether that life includes me or not. I don't think it's impossible, even if sometimes you do. But if you still can't put that first, before Red John, then there's very little chance for it. And definitely no future for us."

"I'm not thrilled with ultimatums, Lisbon. You know that."

"Yes I do, and I'll never ask you to pick me over him. But you know that I can't live like that, so maybe it's time you thought it over. I know you think you've thought it through already, but now that you've had love and companionship again those priorities may have adjusted. And you need time and space to figure it out."

"So you're saying I should move out in order to gain a clearer perspective."

"Yes," she said. "Not because I want you to go."

###

Things seemed to move very quickly after that. To Lisbon it felt as though she blinked and Jane had found a new apartment. She'd gone with him to look it over, wanting to reassure herself that it wasn't another depressing motel. The apartment he'd found, however, was so light and airy that she'd felt better almost immediately.

That is, she went from hating the idea of him leaving to merely disliking it. She knew that it was the right thing at this point, for both of them. He knew it, too, though he occasionally still argued halfheartedly about it. She'd once thought that he'd be _itching_ to get away, hoping to find comfort in the familiar pattern of his old way of living. Ready to forget his dreams.

Of course, she hadn't taken into account the fact that he'd really been in love with her, and she with him, and that they'd finally act on it after years of maintaining the status quo. That threw a whole new wrinkle in things.

She knew he had to go. She'd suggested it first. But she didn't like it, any more than he did.

###

The morning he moved out the weather was beautiful. It didn't take long for him to load the few boxes of his things into his car, but he still lingered in her apartment.

"Are you all set, Jane? Do you have everything?" Lisbon asked, leaning against a doorway.

Jane nodded. "Yes, it's all in my car. I'm a little winded, though; can I doze on your couch for a bit before I leave?"

She rolled her eyes, but nodded. "Sure, Jane, you can rack out for a while. I've got some laundry to keep me busy, so you'll have the living room all to yourself."

Lisbon busied herself sorting the clothes, performing the mundane task with extraordinary care. Anything to keep her mind occupied. To keep from thinking about how, in a short while, she'd be living alone again. –I'm not going to cry,- she thought, but she felt sick with sadness.

An hour and a half later, the clothes washed and dried and put away, she went back into the living room. Jane was still lying there on her couch, but he woke and turned his sleepy gaze on her. She smiled at him from where she stood. "Have a good nap?" she asked.

Wordlessly he shifted from his back onto his side, and reached out a hand to her. She hesitated for a moment, then crossed the distance between them and took it. He tugged her down onto the couch with him, and had her folded up in his arms almost before she knew what was happening. They hadn't been this close physically in a while, but she didn't fight it. Instead, she snuggled close to him and rested her head on his shoulder.

"Why am I moving out again?" Jane muttered into her hair as his hand softly stroked her back. Lisbon didn't answer him; she just kept breathing evenly against his neck.

They stayed like that for a while, until Lisbon disentangled herself and sat up. "All right, Jane, I know you have to get going. I'll see you tomorrow at work, okay?"

He nodded, but kept a grip on her hand. "I hate this. I really do."

"I know," she said. "But we'll get through it. You need a clear head, which you'll never get living with me."

"You're just saying that to make me go," he shot back, and then winced. "Good grief, I sound like a bad romance novel."

Lisbon snickered. "Maybe a little." she said with a smile that quickly faltered. "Go on, Jane, get out of here."

They both stood, and he pulled her close. "See you in the morning," he said.

She squeezed him tight one more time. He walked slowly out of her apartment door, and she heard the gentle click as he shut it behind him. She was alone. The sick, sorrowful feeling returned, and quickly became overwhelming.

She locked the door carefully. Then she stumbled quickly up the stairs to her bathroom, and heaved until her stomach was empty.

###

"Come on, man," Rigsby said in a quiet voice to Cho. "Now's the perfect time to talk to her."

"I can't believe I agreed to this," Cho muttered back. "Shouldn't we leave the boss' business alone?"

"Maybe if it wasn't affecting all of us," Van Pelt whispered. "Please, Cho, we agreed you'd be the best one to talk to her. You've known her and worked with her the longest-"

"All right, all _right_," Cho cut in. "I'm going." He sighed and made his way to Lisbon's office. Standing in front of her door for a moment, he wondered how he was going to word what he had to say.

The past two weeks had been very odd. There had been no official announcement, but everyone had found out that Jane was no longer living at Lisbon's apartment. What no one knew was why.

Cho was fine with that, in principle; after all, it wasn't any of his business. He liked and respected Lisbon as a boss and a friend, and Jane was… well, Jane, and had his good points, but what the two of them were to each other he was just as happy not knowing.

The problem was that it was definitely affecting the team. Jane and Lisbon were so tense around each other, and that dynamic shift was throwing them all off. He, Van Pelt and Rigsby had met yesterday for lunch to talk about it. They'd finally decided that the only thing to do was talk to Lisbon; Cho couldn't imagine Jane being forthcoming with information.

But as he stood there poised to knock, he questioned whether this really was a good idea. The boss' personal life was private, wasn't it? Too bad it seemed unavoidable. Cho braced himself for a difficult conversation, and knocked.

"Come in," Lisbon called, and smiled when she looked up and saw Cho.

"You got a minute, boss?" he asked.

"Sure," she said with a shrug, tapping a few more times on her keyboard then leaning back in her chair. "What's up?"

Cho took a seat in the chair directly in front of Lisbon's desk. "Well, I wanted to ask you about Jane."

Her face didn't change, but her tone did. "What about him?" she asked vaguely.

"Did you two… have a fight or break up or something?" Cho paused and closed his eyes; he was _so_ out of his comfort zone with this.

"Not exactly, but I don't think that's something you need to worry about, Cho."

"That's the problem, boss. We, Rigsby, Van Pelt and I, that is, we feel like whatever has happened is making the team… not work as well. And yes, we're a little concerned about Jane."

"Just Jane?" she countered with an eyebrow raised.

"Maybe not," he admitted. "But especially him. He seems really miserable."

Lisbon sighed. "Jane's a melancholy man underneath it all, you know that. And he has his reasons to be, very valid ones."

Cho pressed on. "I do know that, but he hasn't been this obviously down in a while. He doesn't make as many jokes; he's not pissing as many people off. And as much as I'd like to believe he's somehow changed into a more professional version of himself, the fact is it's worrying us."

"Have you talked to him about it?"

"No, honestly I didn't even try. He wouldn't tell me anything. I thought you might, though."

Lisbon shook her head. "It's complicated. We're at a turning point right now and decided that it's best if we're apart for a while. It's turned out to be rough on everybody, and I'm very sorry for that. I guess all I can do is ask you guys to hang in there and trust my judgment."

"We do trust you. But are you happy, boss? Is this how you want it to be?"

"This is how it is, Cho," she stated in her crispest tone. She softened right after, however, and added, "But no one is less happy about it than I am."

###

He loved her. That was the hardest part about it.

Jane had always assumed that he'd never get sentimental about anything again. Certainly not about love, which he'd seen warped and perverted in a thousand different directions, first as a "psychic" and then as a CBI consultant. Love was many things, he'd thought, but it wasn't like the movies.

Except… except that now he and Lisbon were pushing each other away, he felt all the foolish aspects he deplored. He loved her, which was real. He missed her terribly. And she was almost always in his thoughts.

It wasn't just the companionship, the easy interaction that had _finally_ developed over months. It wasn't just the closeness or the touching or the warmth of her skin. It was silly things, odd little things he'd noticed without noticing and now felt the lack of.

It was seeing her mussed hair in the morning; long before she was awake enough to care about it, much less fix it. It was the way she would eat a bowl of cereal with an iced-tea spoon (he still had no idea why, but he suspected the smaller bowl of that type might fit more comfortably in her cupid's bow mouth… there he went again). Things like that would bubble up in his memory, and he'd ache.

He hated to admit it, but she had been right. He'd kept Red John at the top of his priority list for so long, perhaps too long. He was starting to feel like maybe that wasn't the case anymore, but he couldn't be sure yet. Lisbon didn't want "maybe". She wanted him to promise. And how could he promise if he didn't **know**?

Time and space, she'd said. That's what he needed to figure out how he actually felt and how much he could realistically give. Right again, my dear. But more time and more space than simply moving out could lend him.

He loved her. So he needed to get away.

###

Jane had made up his mind, and walked into Lisbon's office without knocking. She glanced up. "What do you need, Jane?" she asked him.

"I think I need a vacation."

Half a dozen words dropped like a bomb, and with a similar stunning effect. Lisbon realized that her mouth was hanging open. "You what?" she exclaimed after a moment.

"A vacation, Lisbon. I know you don't take them yourself, but you must be familiar with the concept. A break from work, often but not always paired with a trip to a place other than home?"

"That's not what I meant! I've never known you to take a leave; what's changed?"

"Us," he replied simply. "You were right, I do need time and space to settle everything in my head. But I can't do it like this, seeing you everyday, trying to move around like nothing has changed when everything has."

"Jane-" Lisbon started, but he broke in.

"Plus I know for a fact that Cho came in here earlier to talk to you about me. If the team is getting thrown off by our situation, then that situation has to change."

Lisbon's shoulders slumped. "I agree, all right?" she said. "I don't want you to leave, but I understand what you're saying. What kind of time frame are we looking at, here?"

"A month, possibly two."

Her insides clenched. Two months without him? But all she said aloud was, "That's more like a sabbatical than a vacation. You're lucky to be a consultant."

"I've always thought so," he quipped. "Shall we go through the paperwork now?"

"Give me a bit to gather it all together, Jane, and we'll set it up before the end of the day." She paused for a long moment, and then said quietly, "Do you want me to see you off when you go, at least?"

He smiled at her, a genuine warm smile. "I _was_ kind of hoping you'd give me a lift, yes."

"I can do that," she promised. But she couldn't quite smile back.

###

Lisbon was quiet as she drove Jane to the train station five days later. She shook her head at that; Jane, ever the showman, couldn't catch a plane out of town like a regular person, oh no. He had to do something more dramatic. So here it was, the middle of the night, and she was driving him to catch a train to somewhere. She didn't know where. She hadn't asked.

They stood together once they'd arrived, chatting quietly out of doors as their breath made clouds in the cool night air. Lisbon was beginning to have that awful sick feeling in her stomach again, but she tamped it down and focused on the moment. After all, who knew when the next time was that she'd see him?

Eventually, a single light appeared in the distance and a low whistle sounded. Jane tensed when he heard it, and reached out to clasp her hand.

"Well, this is it," he said lamely.

"Yeah, I guess it is," she said, and paused. Then she took a deep breath and looked up at his face, half in shadow on the dark platform. "I'm really going to miss you, Jane."

"Lisbon, it's not forever! It's just for now," he chided in a voice full of false cheer. "What's a month or two, anyway? You'll start getting used to having a little peace and quiet in the office and I'll be back."

"Will you?" she asked, wide-eyed and serious. "You swear?"

"Absolutely. It's not that I want to go, you know. I just… have to. But I'll figure things out, like you suggested, and come back. You don't have to worry about that."

She stepped closer and hugged him, something she hadn't done since that last moment in her apartment. "Of course I'm going to worry. And you don't need to remind me that this was my idea. I remember."

The train whistle sounded again in the stillness. He put his arms around her and held her tight before pulling back and staring into her eyes. "Lisbon," he said, but stopped and started again. "Teresa, if you tell me right now that you don't love me anymore, or say that you never did, I won't leave. And then everything will go back to the way it was before."

"Jane, I-"

"We won't be together, but we won't be separated either. You can make the call, right now," he pleaded, sounding desperate to his own ears. Like he couldn't bear even the thought of being apart from her.

The moisture that had been gathering in her eyes finally overflowed. "No, Jane, I can't. I can't tell you I don't love you and I can't make this decision for you," she whispered, wiping distractedly at her cheeks.

So he cupped her face in his hands and kissed her, tasting the salt of her tears as he did. But he pulled back almost immediately and sighed. "Then this is goodbye."

Lisbon nodded. Her hair began to whip around her face as the wind from the approaching train picked up. She made sure he had all of his luggage, said goodbye one last time, then made her way back to her SUV for the silent drive home.

She simply didn't have the heart to stay and watch him leave.

**TBC…**


	19. On My Mind, In My Heart

**Disclaimer: No copyright infringement intended.**

**A/N: This chapter was originally going to be the last one before the epilogue. Then it overgrew and needed to be split. Unfortunately, that means that there's a good portion of angst left over when I was sure that the fluff would return! This installment is therefore rather mixed, but I hope some of the lighter moments included will give everyone a sense of what the next update will be like.**

**Someone Else's Life**

**Chapter 19: On My Mind, In My Heart**

"_I took a trip on a train, and I thought about you…"_

As soon as Frank Sinatra began to croon, Jane grimaced and hit the pause button on his mp3 player. "Cruelly appropriate shuffle," he muttered under his breath, the train car swaying gently as they picked up speed. He lay back on the scratchy blanket covering the firm bed and sighed. He was glad he'd gotten a sleeping berth for himself, despite the still questionable level of comfort; after all, he had a long trip ahead of him.

He'd been a little disappointed when Lisbon hadn't stayed and waited until his train left, but he knew why she didn't. They were both feeling a little too much to take their "classically romantic moment" to that conclusion. Especially after his last desperate appeal to her.

She'd done the only thing she could by pushing him away. He didn't know if he would have been able to leave, otherwise. It was still a terrible wrench as it was.

But he wasn't too worried about how Lisbon would fare in his absence. He might think he was brave, but he knew she was tough. She'd be fine. Jane tapped the pause button again and stared at the grey ceiling as the song played.

"_I peeked through the crack, and looked at the track, the one going back to you. And what did I do, I thought about you…"_

"Lisbon will be fine," he said out loud, talking to himself again. "I might be a different story."

###

Jane had been gone for a week, and Lisbon was feeling terrible. It wasn't enough that she missed him to the point of a physical ache; she'd also managed to come down with something the day after he left. She wondered if he'd caught it, too.

Not that she'd know if he had. Not that he'd sent even a single line of communication her way. She had no idea where he was or how he was doing. It wasn't exactly surprising, since he'd left specifically to put some distance between them. But was sending her a few words saying that he was all right really so much to ask?

It didn't help (not that anything would) that the first case they got in Jane's absence was the murder of an eight-year-old girl. Suspicion immediately fell on James Price, the girl's Karate instructor, who had been the last person to see her alive. Some intense digging on Van Pelt's part had revealed that he was an unregistered sex offender as well.

Now the team was split up into pairs. Cho and Van Pelt were staking out the Karate school, and Lisbon and Rigsby were carefully parked on the street where Price lived. Price's house was dark, and his car was in the driveway. They weren't taking any chances that he might slip out.

Lisbon had forgotten how boring stakeout duty without having Jane to irritate her was. But her boredom was currently taking a backseat to a more pressing concern.

"Ugh," said Lisbon finally, in a quiet yet disgusted tone. "Rigsby, whatever you're drinking smells awful. Open your window and pour it out, please."

Rigsby sniffed his cup. "It's just my cold coffee, boss," he said. "And I need the caffeine to stay awake."

"Go in the cooler and grab one of the colas, then," Lisbon persisted. "But dump that stuff out right now. I'm getting more nauseous by the minute."

Rigsby gave her a questioning look as he did what she asked. "Are you okay? You haven't exactly been yourself since…"

"Since Jane left," she finished for him. "It's not that, okay? I've got a stomach bug or something. Look, we did this work before he came and we'll do it while he's gone," she said brusquely.

Rigsby held up his hands. "Hey, I didn't mean anything by it. I was just worried that you're not feeling well. It's been almost a week; maybe you should go see a doctor."

"Relax. It'll pass and I'll be in top shape again soon."

"But you love coffee, boss, and-"

"Rigsby, will you drop it? I should've paired up with Cho; at least he wouldn't talk my ear off all night!" Lisbon snapped, and instantly regretted it. She rubbed her eyes and sighed; what was wrong with her? "I'm sorry. I didn't mean that."

Rigsby shrugged and said, "No problem, boss, it's not a big deal. I can put my earbuds in and let you be."

She nodded gratefully. "Thanks. We can chat later maybe, if you like," she replied. But she still felt bad: about her behavior, about Jane, about everything.

A buzzing from her phone interrupted her thoughts. Figuring on a status update from Cho, she was surprised to see the signature on the text.

"_Missing you dreadfully. Not sure if I can do this. Jane"_

Her heart melted and she smiled. Typical Jane, finding a way to soften her up when he finally got in touch with her. She rolled her eyes out of habit, and then tapped her screen to send a reply.

"_Yes you can. I have faith in you. Lisbon"_

"Good news, boss?" Rigsby asked politely, after looking over and seeing her smile.

"Not exactly," she replied after a moment's thought. "But better than no news at all."

###

Lisbon waited a few more days, but discomfort and curiosity finally got the better of her. So here she was, sitting on the table in the examination room at the doctor's office and occasionally swinging her feet in sheer boredom. "Last time I take advice from Rigsby," she grumbled. "I've been here 45 minutes and I _still_ have no idea what's wrong."

"Hi Teresa," said the nurse practitioner as she swept in the door at last.

"Hello Barbara," Lisbon said politely. Barbara Goodwin was the person Lisbon saw most frequently for check-up visits.

"Sorry it took me so long to come back, but we ran a couple of your tests twice to be certain of the results."

"Um, that doesn't sound good, to be honest," Lisbon said. "Should I be worried?"

"Oh not at all! Actually I have some great news: you're pregnant."

Lisbon stared blankly for a moment. "Pregnant? Are you sure?" she asked.

"Positive. We ran the test twice, since I know you've been on prescription birth control."

"Yes I am," Lisbon agreed in a hollow voice, not really listening.

The nurse practitioner was an old hand at giving this kind of news, and knew Lisbon well enough to gauge her reaction correctly. "I take it that this is unexpected?"

Lisbon barked out a short laugh. "Yeah, you could definitely say that," she answered. "Wow."

"Well, Teresa, there are always options in your situation," Barbara said in a careful tone. "Especially at this early stage."

"No," Lisbon said sharply. "It's not that I don't want… it's just a big surprise, that's all."

"Well, that's understandable. It's major news. The father will likely want to know as soon as possible."

"The father is on a long trip, and communication is a little difficult at present," Lisbon lied smoothly. After all, it wasn't entirely untrue. After the text message exchange during the stakeout, she'd avoided contacting Jane. He'd left town to get away from her, not to chitchat with her day and night.

"That's too bad," Barbara said sympathetically. "Still, what a nice welcome home present!" she continued happily.

"I guess I just hope **he** feels that way," Lisbon replied, and this time she was being completely honest.

###

-How am I going to tell him?- Lisbon thought on the drive back to her apartment.

She was glad she'd taken the whole day off as a precaution when she'd scheduled her appointment. She couldn't imagine trying to go back to work now. Not after that news. Not without some processing time.

All the reasons against having a child bubbled up in her mind as she made each familiar turn of the steering wheel almost mechanically. She wasn't 25 anymore. She had an important and dangerous career that dictated her life and her schedule. She'd practically raised three children already, watching over her younger brothers. She wasn't married.

Jane didn't know. And she didn't know if he was coming back. She thought he would. She _hoped_ he would. But it was really up to him, as it needed to be.

Not to mention the fact that the two of them were so messed up. Was it fair to a child, any child, to be saddled with that baggage before it was even born? Would Jane even want to be a father again?

She shook her head as she pulled into the parking lot of her building. Time to approach this with at least some rational thought.

"What are the facts, Agent Lisbon?" she muttered as she unlocked her door and stepped inside. A faint whirring sound alerted her to the presence of the robot vacuum not more than three feet away.

"Well," she continued, fully aware that talking to herself made her sound like a crazy person and therefore privately labeling it 'organizing thoughts aloud', "The facts are as follows: whether it's a good idea or not, I'm pregnant. I can debate the timing or anything else that I like, but this baby is on the way." She realized that she was pacing back and forth in her living room, and stopped to flop down on her couch.

-God, what a _mess_,- went through Lisbon's mind. But something else, something so small she didn't acknowledge it at first, began to appear in her thoughts as well. It was the image of a warm little bundle in her arms, cooing and looking up at her with softly unfocused eyes. It switched to a giggling toddler, all unruly curls and mischief as it ran away and she chased after.

It even showed long, hard days where everything went wrong, and she was tired, and the baby was sick, and work was so difficult. But at the very end of the day, there was a place full of love to go home to, and Jane and their baby waiting for her as she unlocked the door. Jane loved babies; she was sure he'd take as much time as he possibly could to be with his own.

Her hand rested on her stomach as she drifted off into an afternoon nap, and dreamed of a family.

###

Lisbon was at the farmer's market in downtown Sacramento that following Sunday. She'd never gone before Jane had moved in with her; now it was a habit she maintained even though he'd moved out weeks before.

She strolled around in an unhurried manner, admiring the produce and periodically stopping to get something particularly irresistible. She spied a mouth-watering display of Hass avocados, and was moving towards them when her eyes lit on something else. Or rather, someone.

Van Pelt was standing over by a well-varied fruit stall, carefully sorting through an enormous basket of lemons. As Lisbon watched, Rigsby came up behind Van Pelt and slipped an arm around her middle. Lisbon smiled as she heard Van Pelt squeak in surprise, and then laugh and lean back against Rigsby's chest.

Not wanting to feel like she was peeping, Lisbon began to make her way over to the couple. She paused, however, when Rigsby bent forward and began nibbling on Van Pelt's earlobe. Lisbon stifled a laugh; those two definitely made up for behaving well on the job once they were off the clock.

Feeling devilish, Lisbon quietly stole up behind them and said "Hey guys, how's your weekend going so far?" in a voice that was just a little too loud. She grinned as her two agents jumped apart and both turned beet red.

"Whoa! Um, hi boss!" said Van Pelt in a flustered tone. "We were, uh, getting… stuff for dinner tonight. Yeah." Van Pelt's eyes closed in frustration with herself. "How are you?"

"I'm doing okay. Pretty much the same thing, checking out the offerings and so on. How are you, Rigs?"

She bit her lip to keep from chuckling as the tall man said, "Fine!" in a strangled voice. But she began to feel sorry for him when he stammered out, "Sorry, boss, I know we're not supposed to be… and I know you said that you didn't want to see it, and-"

Lisbon cut him off, finally showing a little mercy. "Not at work? Not my problem." She grinned at them and waved a hand. "Have a good rest of your day. I'll see you in the morning."

But Van Pelt piped up with "Oh, you don't have to go, boss! We were going to get some lunch in a minute. Want to join us?"

Lisbon shook her head. "That's okay, I don't need to interrupt your date any more than I already have done."

"It's not exactly a date, plus you're all by yourself. We don't mind, do we, Wayne?" Van Pelt asked, and looked pointedly at Rigsby.

He caught the expression on her face and shook his head. "Not at all."

Lisbon sighed. She really didn't want this turning into a "let's take pity on our lonely boss" party. So she decided to suggest a compromise.

"How about lunch tomorrow instead? We'll make it a team thing, snag Cho and go to that little Italian place we all like. That way nobody's plans get fudged."

"Well, if you're sure-"

"I'm sure," Lisbon said decisively. "Goodbye, you two."

"Bye, boss. See you tomorrow."

###

Lunch the following day started out so nicely Lisbon wondered why they didn't do it more often. Cho grumbled briefly for the sake of form, but hadn't needed much prodding from the other three to come along.

Their favorite Italian place was a little hole in the wall, honestly. Ancient fading posters and photographs lined the walls, terrible pop music was piped in from the kitchen, and the tablecloths were garishly colored plastic.

The food was so good, however, that the atmosphere was easily forgiven. As the team's two pizzas arrived (one completely innocent of pineapple for Cho's sake), Lisbon paused the conversation to dish a slice up for everyone.

They were chewing contentedly when the trouble started.

A skinny older woman with a fist full of scratch-off tickets plopped down unceremoniously in the booth right next to theirs. Lisbon felt vaguely irritated by this; the restaurant was almost entirely empty, why had this woman sat right beside them?

Lisbon's displeasure only grew when the woman began speaking in a loud grating voice to the only waitress on duty. "Hey Christine, has Jeanie had that baby yet? How far dilated is she?" The whole team raised an eyebrow in response to that statement. Even Rigsby stopped mid-bite to make a face.

As the woman diligently scratched at her lottery tickets and got progressively more graphic, Lisbon sighed and pushed at her plate. When were they going to make a law against talking about disgusting things in a loud voice in a public restaurant?

As the woman wound up a particularly long and medically descriptive anecdote with "And I'd told the doctor about the blood leaking out of her ears, but did he take me seriously? No…" Cho leaned over and whispered something to Rigsby. Rigsby's eyes flicked over to Lisbon, and he nodded.

"What?" Lisbon asked.

Cho considered for a second. "I said: I wish Jane was here," he confessed.

Lisbon felt a squeezing in her heart, but she only asked, "Why is that?"

"Because he'd deal with that woman so we could eat our lunch in peace," said Rigsby. "We can't because we're too polite. But Jane wouldn't care."

"That's no good," argued Van Pelt. "Jane would go too far the other way; he'd embarrass her."

"Too bad," Cho said flatly. "Talking about that stuff when people are trying to eat? She should be embarrassed. And Jane would take care of it."

"He did have a way of saying what everyone was thinking when no one else would," Van Pelt admitted. "It was so annoying that I never thought I'd miss it, but I do. I miss Jane."

As if they'd planned it, all three pairs of eyes settled on Lisbon. "What?" she said again.

"It's okay, boss. You don't have to say anything," Van Pelt said kindly. "We know you miss him."

"Yes, I do," Lisbon said, and smiled at the surprise in their faces. Obviously they weren't prepared to hear her admitting it. "But I'm sure he'll come back," she continued. –And I hope it's soon,- she added internally. -Preferably before I start to show.-

###

_It was odd, wandering and looking around in a house he should have recognized. Everything was vaguely familiar, but noticeably a little off. It was that feeling you sometimes get in dreams, Jane thought. So this was a dream, then._

"_Hello, Mr. Jane," said a soft voice in the shadows. How did three innocent words manage to convey so much menace?_

"_Hello, who's there?" Jane asked. As if he didn't know._

"_You know very well who it is. Aren't you going to go upstairs? Don't you want to see them?" the voice asked._

"_No. I know what's up there, and this time I'm not going," Jane said firmly. He couldn't wake himself up, not yet, but he wasn't going though the same old nightmare the same way knowing what it was._

"_Always so certain, Mr. Jane. Always so sure. And poor Agent Lisbon, she trusted you once too often, didn't she?"_

"_What?" Jane asked. This was a departure from the usual script. "What's Lisbon got to do with it?"_

"_I can't be expected to tell you everything, can I? Some things you'll have to see for yourself. Go on upstairs; I can wait. You take as long as you need."_

_Jane's hand clenched the banister until his knuckles turned white. Why was he doing this? His feet dragged mechanically up each step. Why couldn't he stop?_

_He took careful steps to the end of the hall. There was a door, like always, but it wasn't the same door. There was no note on this one, just a mocking smile painted in red. Why couldn't he keep himself from going in?_

_On the floor inside of the room were the bodies of a woman and girl, but they were different, too. Their two heads with hair in dark waves lay in the pools of blood._

Jane woke suddenly, his heart racing. The nightmare had left him drenched in sweat and he was gasping for air like he'd been underwater. Unthinkingly, he reached out towards the other side of the bed, groping blindly for Lisbon. A minute passed before he remembered that he was now on the other side of the country from her.

Without considering the time difference, he picked up his phone from the bedside table and called her number. It rang twice before she picked up and groggily answered. "Jane? What's wrong?"

"N-nothing," he stammered. "I just… needed to hear your voice."

"Right _now_?" she complained. "Jane, it's three in the morning!" He heard her pause before she continued in a concerned tone. "Are you all right? Has something happened?"

"No, nothing. I had a nightmare, that's all. It seemed a little too vivid, I guess."

"And you needed to hear my voice. So it was about me this time?"

"Yes. Teresa, are you keeping something from me?"

Lisbon's hand slipped down to her stomach. –Yes,- she thought, -But not for much longer.- Instead, she asked him, "Like what?"

"Anything. You haven't been injured again, have you?" he asked, worry creeping into his tone.

"No, Jane," she sighed, half in weariness, half in relief. "Nothing like that. Work is relatively quiet right now. Maybe crime is taking the holidays off."

"You're still a terrible liar," he said. "You know that, right?"

She scowled; he could hear it in her voice. "So you keep telling me."

"It's not a judgment on your character, my dear, or if it is it's a positive one. What's really going on at work?"

"It's not your worry right now, Jane. You do what you have to do; we'll hold down the fort until you get back."

Jane hastily back-pedaled. "I didn't mean to sound like I thought you couldn't function without me-"

"Of course you did, but I'm used to your attitude by now," she shot back, and he could hear the half smile in her voice. "It's late. Try to get some sleep, Jane, wherever you are, and I'll do the same."

"Maine," he blurted out.

"What?"

"I'm in Maine. I haven't been here the whole time, mind you, but that's where I am now."

Lisbon honestly couldn't think of a thing to say. This was the first time he'd given her any indication of where he was. She settled for, "I've never been there. How is it?"

"Beautiful. Quite snowy. Lonely," he replied. "I miss you."

"I miss you, too. Get to figuring things out, Jane, so you can come home."

"Home," he repeated, and shook his head. "I don't know if I should come back."

"What?" Lisbon asked sharply. "Why not?"

"Maybe you'd be better off without me. I mean, what if Red John comes after you? What if he knows how I feel about you, and decides to hurt you?"

Lisbon sighed in exhaustion. "If he comes near me, Jane, I'll incapacitate him and arrest him. I'm not a housewife or a teenage girl or an airy psychic, you know. I'm a cop, and I can take care of myself."

"That's what everyone says, right up until he kills them!" Jane exclaimed angrily.

"Stop it," she said. "That's enough. Let me ask you a question: do you really think that you being on the other side of the country will keep him from coming after the people you care about?"

That brought Jane up short. "I don't know," he finally replied.

Lisbon nodded. "Neither do I, if I'm being honest. There are risks in this line of work, and I accepted them long before you and I even met. True, I've learned to be more careful than the average person. But I refuse to look over my shoulder for him every second of the day. That's no way to live."

"This is really the same old argument that started everything, isn't it?" Jane grumbled.

"Pretty much. And you still have to make that decision, Jane. Do you want happiness more than you want revenge?" Jane was silent, so she continued. "I'm going back to sleep. Will you be all right?"

"Yes," he said. "I'm sorry I woke you."

"I'm glad you did. I care about you; I don't want you lying there afraid if a phone call to me will reassure you."

He smiled. "Any time, day or night, my own personal crisis hotline. Is that it?" he teased gently.

"Shut up, Jane. Good night, or I guess it's good morning where you are."

"And where you are, too, only three hours earlier. I love you."

"Ugh, don't remind me how early it is," she said, and paused. He could tell she was chewing her lip before she said, "I love you, too. And I told the team I was sure you'd come back. You wouldn't make a liar out of me _again_, would you?" she added. The question was meant as a joke, but she couldn't mask the vulnerability in her voice.

And in that moment, even before opening his mouth to say goodbye, Jane knew that this time he wouldn't. Even if it took him a while longer to get back, he couldn't stay away.

Because as much as he hated Red John, he loved Lisbon that much more.

**TBC… song lyrics included are from "I Thought About You".**


	20. Coming Back to Life

**Disclaimer: For the 20****th**** (!) time, no.**

**A/N: So here we are! We've made it to the last normal format chapter of this story, with only an epilogue to follow. In this update, Jane and Lisbon start out still separated. Will they be communicating more regularly? What will Jane finally decide? How will he find out about the baby-on-the-way? Will these two actually work everything out in the end? Warnings: brief language, unapologetic fluff.**

**Someone Else's Life**

**Chapter 20: Coming Back to Life**

Lisbon hadn't heard anything from Jane in two weeks, and she was getting a little worried. She wanted to give him the space he needed, but she hated that he'd stopped communicating completely again. It had gotten to the point where she was scrambling for her phone every time it rang, hoping that it would be him. Hoping that he was still safe and healthy.

As for her own health? Well, her nausea wasn't near constant anymore, thank goodness. But even this early on she could feel inklings of the changes that pregnancy would wreak on her system. The most difficult to deal with currently were the mood swings.

Lisbon would feel calm one moment, furious the next, and then almost giggly right after. She spent a great deal of time trying to mask her immediate reactions to the world around her. She got the impression, however, that she wasn't doing a terrific job.

She was also sure the team now knew something important was going on with her, far more than simply "missing Jane". They were investigators for a reason. Cho in particular had been caught looking askance in her direction more than once.

A deep sigh escaped her lips as she patted her still-flat stomach. She'd have to tell them eventually, Jane or no Jane.

###

Winter in Maine was the winter of fairy tales and Christmas stories, Jane decided. Perfect white drifts of snow in deep, quiet woods. Charming little towns all lit up for the holiday season.

He spent most of his days away from the inn where he was staying. Sometimes he took strolls in wild areas; other times he ambled sedately down the main street of the nearest little town. He went on long drives down winding lanes, and spotted the hawks that perched on the uppermost branches of the bare trees that lined the roadsides. He filled up his senses so he didn't think.

But at night, when he was warm again and tired and relaxed, he would let his mind wander so he could observe where it went. And he realized eventually that given the chance, he didn't think about Red John or the hunt very much. Certainly not nearly as much as he used to.

He thought instead about his family, distant happy memories finally easing their way past the horror and grief. He thought about the team, and how they'd been true friends to him for years, even when he hadn't always returned the favor.

But more than anything else, he thought about Lisbon. He thought of her sweet face and her smile, her warmth and her love. She was the first person in his mind when he woke up in the morning, and the last image there when he went to sleep.

Jane knew that being with her had made him feel truly happy, for the first time in years. And whether or not, deep down, he believed that he deserved happiness, he wanted it. He wanted that life with her. She needed to know that.

Lisbon needed to know that she came first.

###

Jane timed his phone call carefully so that Lisbon should be free to talk. He hadn't counted on a bear of a case keeping her late again, however, so that when she answered she was just walking in her apartment door. "Can I call you back in a little bit?" she asked him. "I want to be able to give you my full attention."

"Absolutely. Talk to you soon."

Lisbon had heard that tone in Jane's voice that meant he was about to drop something serious on her, and she didn't want to make him pause for anything. So she went around changing clothes and arranging everything so she wouldn't need to interrupt him. Only then did she call him back.

"Hey," he answered. "You all settled?"

"Yes," she said. "So what do you need to tell me?"

Jane took a deep breath and let it out slowly. This was it. "You know why I left. I need to figure things out, get my priorities straight, and a bunch of other et ceteras."

"Yes," Lisbon agreed. "And yes, I still think it was the right thing to do, even though I've really missed you and our closing rate has dropped noticeably."

"Well, I've taken my time and thought it through, and I want to come back there. Specifically, I want to come back to _you_. I want us to be together. I don't want to spend the rest of my life waiting for the other shoe to drop and never really live because of it."

Lisbon's eyes welled up. He was saying exactly what she wanted to hear, which of course made her incredibly nervous. She didn't sense any dishonesty, but there was still one big unanswered question hanging over them.

She almost hated herself for asking what she did next, but she knew she had to. "What about Red John, Jane?"

He sighed unhappily. "I still hate him. I still think he should die for what he did to my family," he said. She closed her eyes in resignation, but they snapped back open when he continued. "But I couldn't put you second to anyone, even if I wanted to. You matter more to me than him, Teresa. If I'd ever taken the time before to really analyze it, I would've already realized that you have for years."

Smiling through tears, all she could say was, "Okay."

"'Okay'? Seriously? I bare my soul and profess complete and undying love for you, and all you can say is 'okay'?" Jane sounded genuinely miffed, and Lisbon couldn't help but laugh.

"What do you want me to say, Jane? That you've finally settled one of my last lingering fears about being with you? That I love you as much as you love me, in spite of every one of those fears? That every moment from this point until you get back here is going to be one too many that we're separated, as far as I'm concerned?"

She could hear the smile in his voice when he grudgingly replied, "That would be good for a start, anyway."

She smiled in turn. "When I said 'okay', I meant that I believe you. And I think if you're ready to come home, you should."

"**If** I'm ready? Good grief, woman, of course I am! I've _been_ ready; I just needed to be sure, I guess."

"So did I, and now I am. So come home, Jane," Lisbon said, and let the longing come through in her voice when she added. "Come back to me."

They said their goodbyes, and Jane immediately started making flight arrangements once they hung up. But not for Sacramento, not quite yet. He had a stop to make on the way first.

###

Jane turned up his collar and shivered slightly as the Windy City lived up to its nickname. Years of living in the balmy Mediterranean climate of California had left him little prepared for a proper Midwest winter, even after his temporary sojourn in the wilds of frozen Maine. The chill tried to settle into his bones, but he pulled his coat more tightly around himself and kept walking. He only had a little farther to go.

He'd never been to Chicago before, and caught himself wandering goggle-eyed like a tourist. The architecture and history of the city were both amazing, but it was imagining Lisbon growing up here that really had him fascinated.

He wondered: what had been her favorite place to hang out, her favorite place to go with her family? Did she miss anything about her hometown, or did she shake it off and embrace the West Coast completely when she'd moved? He was a little intimidated by the idea that there were still so many things he _didn't_ know about her. And he was a little thrilled by the idea that he still had ample time to find those things out.

The rest of their lives, for example. If she'd have him.

He sighed in relief as he pushed open the door of the tiny jewelry shop. This was the fifth one he'd visited today; he was beginning to wonder if he would ever find what he was looking for.

He had a good feeling about this one, however; for one thing, it didn't look exactly the same as the other four. There was an entire section for estate jewelry, which looked especially promising even at a distance. He smiled politely at the older of the two saleswomen behind the counter.

She raised an overly groomed eyebrow at him, and Jane watched her give his shoes a quick glance. Apparently, his worn brown leather lace-ups garnered him no special treatment, as the woman proceeded to sniff haughtily and ignore him.

–You poor ignorant snob,- thought Jane, -Still judging people by their shoes in this day and age? I bet it usually works in your favor, but today you'll be missing out on a massive commission.- He shrugged slightly, and went over to stand in front of the younger woman.

She looked around 30, with warm brown eyes and a kind smile. "Can I help you, sir?" she asked, and Jane grinned.

"I hope so. What's your name, please?" he said, his voice dripping charm.

The girl colored slightly. "Everyone calls me Shay."

"Shay, my name is Patrick, and today I'd like to look at engagement rings."

Shay nodded and immediately went into a more professional demeanor. "Of course. We have a large selection, so why don't we start narrowing it down? We have diamond rings and other gems, new pieces and estate items, and a form to design custom pieces. Where should we start?"

Jane considered briefly, and then said, "I'd very much like to look at an estate ring with an emerald center stone, if you have such a thing."

"You're in luck, sir. We have several," she said excitedly as she led Jane over to another counter. She placed a tray in front of him. "Each ring is tagged with stone, metal and pricing information. Anything further you're curious about, I can look up for you."

"Thank you so much," Jane said. His eyes lit on one ring in particular. "What can you tell me about that one, Shay?" he asked, pointing to it.

"Oh, good eye, sir," she said with a smile as she delicately removed the ring he'd indicated from the display. "This is a very fine square cut emerald with above-average color saturation and clarity. The setting is in platinum, and the side stones are tapered diamond baguettes."

"So, for the less knowledgeable like myself, all that translates to an especially nice ring?" Jane asked, teasing slightly.

"Extremely. " Shay agreed, missing the joke. "We only just got this one in, sir, and I'd be surprised if someone doesn't snap it up soon."

Jane liked the ring very much; it was elegant, simple, and not so enormous that it would catch on Lisbon's more practical clothing. It didn't hurt that the stone would compliment her eyes perfectly, either. "I'll take it," he said with a confident nod.

"Wonderful! It comes with a ring box, too; we have several different colors to choose from."

"I think a simple white box will be fine."

"Classic choice; I bet she'll love it. She's a lucky woman," Shay blurted, then blushed again at the unintentional flirtation in the statement.

Jane smiled. "Actually, I'm the lucky one," he corrected with a wink. "Assuming she says yes, of course."

Shay's smile faltered a little. "Not a sure thing that she will?"

Jane chuckled gently. "There's no such thing as a 'sure thing', Shay. Life is pretty uncertain, and most of the time… all we can do is hope." He winced slightly at his own corniness, but didn't retract the statement.

Fifteen minutes later, his wallet and heart lighter and his pocket slightly heavier, Jane exited the store and started immediately back for his hotel. He had some packing to do. It was about time to go home.

###

The next morning, on her way to the CBI, Lisbon's cell phone rang. A quick glance showed it was Jane. "Hey Jane," she said as she clicked it on speaker. "What's up?"

"You're a native of Chicago, my dear. Tell me the one food item I absolutely have to try before I leave."

"You're in Chi-town? I thought you were coming straight back."

"Oh, I'm on my way. There were a few little things I needed to do first, that's all. So, regional food specialty. Spill."

Her eyes went slightly misty with fond memory. "Italian beef sandwiches, Jane. Definitely."

"Really?" He sounded surprised. "I was sure you'd say deep-dish pizza."

"Why would I, when I know you prefer thin crust? No, the beef sandwiches are the way to go. Be sure to have it dipped when you get it. Yes, it's going to make a mess; just accept that and enjoy it anyway."

"Dipped, mess, got it," Jane said, sounding almost as if he was taking notes. "Anything else I should know about them?"

"Well, they usually come with something called 'giardiniera'. I like it; it's a sort of relish made with peppers."

"Peppers? That sounds awful."

"I know, I know, you don't like them. Opinion is currently split on how important they are to the sandwich, anyway. Some people are going to tell you 'no peppers, no point', while others are a little more open-minded," Lisbon said, almost as if she was hosting the debate in her head as they spoke. "I say get it anyway, even without the giardiniera. It's totally worth it." –Great,- she thought. –Now I wish I had one.-

Jane grinned at the nostalgia in her voice. "You do sound like you miss them. Would you like me to send you some while I'm here?"

"Yeah _right_, Jane," Lisbon scoffed, despite his apparent telepathy. "You're going to mail me a sandwich?"

"Perhaps not," he conceded. "But I could overnight you the makings so you could fix one for yourself."

"Hmph," she huffed, still not convinced. But her stomach growled so entreatingly that she said, "All right, yes, I'd really like that."

"Perfect. You'll get it tomorrow, I swear."

"I'll believe it when I see it, Jane," Lisbon said skeptically as she pulled into the CBI HQ parking lot. "Now I have to go, so I'll talk to you again soon, okay?"

###

A cooler arrived at her apartment bright and early the next morning, a crisp and comfortable Saturday. Lisbon signed for it and tugged it inside. Plunking it onto her kitchen counter, she opened it to reveal all the proper fixings for making several perfect sandwiches, including her giardiniera. He'd even sent the right type of rolls.

On top of everything was a short note in Jane's handwriting.

"_You were right, these __are__ incredible. _

_You see it; now, do you believe it?_

_I love you. -Jane."_

Was it ridiculous to get weepy over a short note and a pile of cold cuts? Or was it more over a faithfully kept promise, however minor? Ah well, if anyone ever asked about it in the future, she could always blame the hormones.

###

It was early afternoon when Jane strolled back into the CBI the following Monday. He raised a hand in greeting to the security guard, who waved him through as if his absence over the last five weeks had never happened. Pleased at skirting the first barrier, he made his way to the elevator and punched the button for the correct floor. He was looking forward to seeing the team again, and also to enlisting their help in one more big surprise for Lisbon.

Rigsby was the first to notice him while making a near impossible throw into the farthest wastebasket. "Jane? When did you get back?" he asked with a puzzled smile.

"Nice shot, Risgby. Just now, actually. Hello all."

"Welcome back, Jane!" Van Pelt said, smiling brightly as she looked up from her workstation.

"About time you got here," Cho grumbled as he walked in. "What took you so long?"

Jane enjoyed the familiar comfort of each of their reactions. "Oh, you know. Things," he answered vaguely. "Is Lisbon in her office?"

Van Pelt's face fell slightly. "No, Jane, I'm sorry. The boss went out to pick up some stuff during her lunch hour. I'm sure if she'd know you were coming she would have-"

"No, no, that's perfect," Jane interrupted. "I want it to be a surprise. I'll sneak into her office and wait for her. Promise you won't warn her?"

"Sure, I guess," shrugged Rigsby.

"Of course, how cute," Van Pelt agreed with a nod.

"Forget it, I'm not playing a trick on the boss. I like her more than you," said Cho.

"Oh come on, Cho. Play along this once," wheedled Jane.

"Give me one good reason why I should."

Jane grinned. "How does twenty bucks sound?"

"A hundred," Cho countered.

"Fifty," said Jane.

"Done," said Cho. "Surprise away."

Jane shook his head as he handed the money to Cho. "I know you would've done it anyway, and for nothing," he muttered loud enough for only Cho to hear, and winked. "But don't worry. I won't ever let on what a soft-hearted guy you really are."

Cho's expression didn't change one iota as he took the bill and pocketed it. Not that Jane expected it to.

Jane walked to Lisbon's office, stepped inside and closed her blinds. He stretched out on her couch, closed his eyes, and waited.

###

Lisbon walked into the bullpen with her arms laden. "Cho, can you grab a few of these files?" she asked. "I'm going to go spend the last ten minutes of my lunch hour actually _having_ some lunch."

"Take as long as you need, boss," Rigsby said, a little too quickly. "We've all got enough to keep us busy through the afternoon."

"Definitely," agreed Van Pelt. "You take your time."

Lisbon gave them both a questioning look, but they didn't volunteer anything further. Her eyes flicked over to Cho, who shrugged. "No idea," he said flatly. "Enjoy your lunch."

Lisbon spun on her heel and walked towards her office, pulling up short when she noticed her blinds were closed. She wasn't in the mood for some prank right now; didn't the team know that? What on earth was waiting for her in there?

She shifted and pushed the door open with her hip. Her eyes widened when she saw a familiar head of golden curls resting on her couch, facing away from the door.

"Hey, Lisbon," came the warm, almost nonchalant greeting as Jane rolled over to look at her. She hadn't found her voice yet.

She watched as he got up and calmly made his way over to where she stood, still dumbstruck. A gentle touch on her upper arm guided her a few steps further into her office and her door, no longer blocked, swung shut again.

She'd never be able to swear how it happened later; the surprise took a while to wear off. But it was only the work of a moment before her arms were empty of files and coffee and her lunch, and full of Jane.

It didn't matter that she still couldn't think of what to say at that point. Because once his arms went around her and his lips settled on hers, neither of them spoke for a long while.

###

They were seated facing each other at opposite ends of her couch that long while later. "Five weeks was a long time," Lisbon said. "I'm so glad you came back."

"So am I," Jane said, and placed a small white velvet box on the cushion in front of her.

"What's that?" Lisbon asked, curious but not reaching for it.

"It's a question," Jane replied. "Well, it's more a symbolic gesture based on the answer to a question, but why get pedantic about it?"

"Too late for that, I think," she said with a smirk. "What's the question?"

"Will you marry me, Teresa?" he said.

"What?" she asked, stunned.

"Will you marry me? Would you be my wife?" he asked again.

"Hold on, Patrick. I love you, and I'm very happy you're here," she said. –And I'm carrying your child,- she added mentally. "But marriage is… a big deal." she finished lamely.

"Is that a no?"

"No, but-" she started, and then paused. "Why do you want to marry me?" she asked instead.

He looked at her quizzically. "Teresa, why do people get married? They love each other, they want to spend the rest of their lives together, and they don't want to live without each other anymore. That's why."

"That's not what I asked," Lisbon pressed. "I asked why _you_ want to marry _me_."

"I see," Jane said with a nod. "I could give you every clichéd reason in the world for loving you and wanting to marry you. And honestly, they'd all be true, but I know that's not what you're asking. You want the 'us' answer. The personal reason."

"Yes, I do."

Jane took a deep breath and exhaled slowly. "Did you know I was never actually suicidal? Even during my locked-room stint, I never wanted to hurt myself. I loathed myself, but that's another matter. I'm still dealing with that to a degree."

She reached for his hand and grasped it. "You never did strike me as the suicidal type. And you don't believe in an afterlife, so you wouldn't try to join your family there."

"True. I never wanted to die. But I didn't really want to live, either. I didn't want to be happy. I was willing to settle for numb, with occasional cracks into rage or despair." He shook his head, uncomfortable with the memory. "Then I met you. You gave me compassion without pity. You gave me understanding and forgiveness that I didn't earn, and possibly didn't deserve."

Lisbon shrugged. "What can I say? I needed your help to catch bad guys," she said, in an attempt to lighten the atmosphere.

"Yes," Jane said with a grin. "Yes you did. But you also went along with my schemes and laughed at my tricks when you thought I wasn't looking. You cared enough to get angry when I put myself in danger. I admit I enjoyed making you yell almost as much as making you laugh, because it showed that I didn't just amuse you; I meant something to you. It felt good to have someone who cared about me, and I wanted to feel good."

"So you want to marry me because I've managed to put up with you up until now? How incredibly romantic."

He laughed at that, but his tone when he answered was serious. "No, my dear. I want to marry you because I love you. You made me want to live again, Teresa. That's something I thought nobody could do."

-Oh God,- Lisbon thought, completely floored by his admission. -How the hell am I supposed to resist _that_?- But she realized in the next instant that she didn't have to resist, and more importantly, she didn't want to.

"Yes," she said. She pulled him into her arms and held him tight. "Yes, I will marry you."

He squeezed her gently, then pulled back and held out the box. "Then this is for you."

She opened it to find the loveliest emerald ring she'd ever seen. It was perfect. She smiled at him as he gently took it and slipped it on her finger.

They sat together on her couch, exchanging whispers and kisses until he stood up and stretched. "May I take this opportunity to admire you?"

She glanced up at him with a quirked eyebrow. "Can anything I say stop you?"

"Not really," he said with his old smile. "I don't know if I believe that absence makes the heart grow fonder, but I'm positive you're even lovelier now than you were when I left all those weeks ago."

She blushed a bit at that. "Oh come on, I don't look **that** different," she teased.

But he persisted. "Yes, sweetheart, you do. You've even put on a little weight, which looks fantastic on you. I've always thought you kept yourself thinner than strictly necessary, even for someone in such an active profession…" he trailed off.

Lisbon watched the change in his expression as realization dawned; she should have known he'd pick up on the subtler changes, and their meaning. "You're-" he started.

She nodded even before he finished the spoken thought. "Yes, I am."

"And I'm-"

"Yes, you are," she said immediately. "**We** are going to have a baby, Patrick." She didn't even try to hold back tears that were part nervousness and mostly joy. Her last lingering anxiety about his reaction evaporated when she saw the look of happy wonder on his face.

She let out a surprised gasp as he pulled her off the couch and back into his arms. The gasp became a thoroughly un-Lisbon-like shriek as he spun her around. She listened to him laugh in elated disbelief, and even though she'd probably deny having such a sentimental thought later, at that moment she was sure another part of his shattered heart had started to mend.

###

Some time later, as they sat together on her couch again, Lisbon turned to Jane and said, "I'm going to ask you to promise me one more thing."

"Only one more thing for the rest of our lives? I think I can live with that," he teased. He quickly caught the hand she raised to swat him and kissed it. "Go ahead, ask."

She took a deep breath. "When the time comes, you absolutely _can't_ go after Red John alone."

His face went very serious. "But-"

"No buts, Patrick," she interrupted. She placed her hand on his cheek and looked into his eyes. "Things are going to be different from now on. You'll have a wife and baby who you mean the world to. You can't be as cavalier with your life as you've been in the past, acting like it didn't matter. You matter," she said. Her voice trembled a little. "We need you."

Jane's heart almost ached with love. He leaned forward slightly and rested his forehead against hers. "I promise," he said, closing his eyes and kissing her gently.

And for once, neither of them had any doubt how seriously he meant to keep it.

**To Be Concluded…**


	21. Four Years, Four Lives

**Disclaimer: Sigh. Still no.**

**A/N: This is it, the end of the story. It's been an amazing 4+ months for me, truly. This started out as a little idea that wouldn't go away and turned into the longest, most read, most reviewed, most alerted, and most favorited story that I've written on here. Thank you ****so much**** to everyone who has read and sent kind comments my way; I honestly would have had a tough time continuing without your incredible support. A VERY special 'thank you' goes to Jolena Sternlicht. When I had serious doubts about even writing this story, much less posting it, she encouraged me to follow my muse. **

**This is almost entirely fluff (fair warning!), and answers a few 'and then what happened?' questions. Flashbacks will appear in italics.**

**Someone Else's Life**

**Epilogue: Four Years, Four Lives**

"Willow!" Jane called out from his seat on the park bench. "Stay where Daddy can see you!" He grinned at the answering bubbly giggle from his three-year-old daughter, and leaned back as a little head popped into view.

It was late morning on a sunny Friday, and Jane had taken Willow to the playground at Fremont Park. It was her current favorite, and being located right in the middle of downtown Sacramento made it very convenient to the CBI. They'd be leaving shortly to go pick up Lisbon (still Lisbon for professional reasons) and have lunch together as a family.

Jane watched Willow climbing to the top of the slide once again. Their daughter's hair was a surprising mid-point between his and Lisbon's: not so tightly curled as his, not so dark as hers. The result was beautiful chocolate-colored soft curls. But there was no question as to whose eyes she'd inherited. Not when looking into her ocean-colored eyes was like looking in a mirror for him.

Lisbon had been more than a little nervous when they'd found out that their first child was going to be a girl, and truthfully so had he. How was he going to react? What sorts of feelings were going to surface? Would he feel like this new baby was trying to replace his first daughter, however unfair it was?

He smiled again. All of his fears had melted away when they'd placed that sweet little dark-haired baby in his arms. He'd cried a little, certainly, but the overwhelming feeling hadn't been sadness. It also helped that she took to him immediately, calming in his arms as he relaxed.

Thinking back on it, he doubted he'd have been so at ease if Red John had still been around at the time when their child was born. But Willow was still kicking in her mother's belly when that chapter of his life had conclusively ended.

###

_Red John had grown seriously overactive in the months following Jane and Lisbon's wedding. The fact that they weren't trying to keep their love and imminent family addition a secret any longer spurred him on like never before._

_It wasn't exactly a matter of a daily body count, more of regular and vicious reminders that he knew. He knew about everything. And Red John wasn't pleased that Jane had decided that revenge wasn't the only thing worth living for anymore._

_Notes with telltale smears of blood, followed by the discovery of another innocent victim, became his new favorite calling card. Eventually Lisbon was having nightmares even more often than Jane was, growing more frequent as the arrival date for their baby drew closer._

_It came to a head one night when Red John appeared to tire of his old cat-and-mouse game, and seemed intent on finally, fatally dealing with them both. He'd broken into Lisbon's apartment, planning to surprise them._

_Jane had unlocked the door and gone into the mostly darkened living room first. His breath hissed between his teeth as he noticed the uninvited figure emerge from the deeper shadows into the dim light. Neither he nor Lisbon had any doubt as to who it was, even before he said a word._

"_Welcome home, Mr. Jane, and to the sweet Agent Lisbon and baby-to-be as well," said the light and soft-spoken voice. Jane watched the glitter of Red John's eyes as they flicked over first his face, then Lisbon's and then settled on Lisbon's swollen middle. "It's almost a shame to end it all, isn't it? But I think our little game has gone on long enough."_

_Jane opened his mouth to answer, but his voice evaporated when he saw the glint of the raised knife. He moved from Lisbon's side, attempting to step in front of her as the killer came swiftly towards them, but her right arm was already moving. Jane's hand went to his ear as two shots rang out from her gun, less than two feet from his head._

_Lisbon was an excellent markswoman. Red John fell and was still, two holes in his chest seeping blood into her carpet. Lisbon took several quick steps forward and kicked the knife out of his lifeless hand, still not trusting him even in death. _

_Neither she nor Jane spoke for a moment, but she was the one who broke the silence. "I'm sorry, Jane," she said, to his immense surprise._

"_What? Why?" he asked, flabbergasted. She only reverted back to calling him Jane when something was really bothering her._

"_All these years, Jane. All this time I've talked about due process and prison and the futility of revenge. And then this happens and what do I do? I just shoot him dead."_

_He turned to look at her, finally taking his eyes from the body and saw the streams of tears running unnoticed down her cheeks. He knew she wasn't really consciously crying; her emotions were running so high at that moment they'd just overflowed. "Darling, it's… well, it's not okay but I know why you did it," he said, attempting to comfort her. "__You__ know why you did it. He was coming at us with a knife. It was self-defense." He reached out and pulled her into his arms._

_Lisbon was babbling now, the adrenaline and stress washing over her unchecked. "I guess if he was going to die anyway I should've let you do it, huh?" she mumbled against his shoulder. "But he was too fast, Jane. I don't know if you could've got him. He was so fast," she repeated in a strained voice. "Do you hate me?" she asked then, and Jane winced at the fear in her whispered question._

_He stroked her hair. "No, Teresa, I don't. He's gone. It's done. It's all over, for better or worse. But you have to try and calm down, for your sake and Willow's."_

"_I know," she said with a shuddering sigh. "She's reacting to my stress already, kicking and shifting." Her hand moved between them and rubbed her stomach._

"_It'll be all right," soothed Jane, feeling so surreal as the calmer one of the two of them. "We're going to go back out the front door but we're leaving it open. I'm going to call 911 and then we'll wait until they arrive."_

"_Okay," she replied, not really listening. Her ears buzzed slightly as he walked a few paces away and made the phone call, his words no longer distinct. She blinked and focused on him again when he gently shook her. "Yes?"_

"_They're going to be here in about five or ten minutes, dear, so if there's anything you want to do or say to me unobserved, now's the time," he murmured._

_Lisbon sighed unhappily. "We can't stay here, Patrick," she said._

_Jane gave her a slightly puzzled look. "What, tonight? Of course not, it's a crime scene now. We'll go to my apartment." He'd still kept it, as he had signed a yearlong lease. Since they had gotten married, they'd been using it principally for storage as they began looking for a house. "I know I haven't been living there, so it's a bit dusty, but it'll be fine to sleep in for a night. That bed is smaller, but it's still big enough for the both of us."_

_Lisbon shook her head impatiently. "That's not what I meant. I mean I don't want to live here anymore. I know it sounds crazy, but I don't want…" she trailed off. Her voice cracked slightly when she continued, "Our daughter is not learning to walk on the floor where Red John bled out."_

_He nodded in understanding. "We'll move into the other apartment completely, then, as soon as they release this place. And we'll step up the house hunting. Everything will be fine, sweetheart. I promise."_

_She laughed, regardless of how inappropriate it was to the situation. "How can you be so relaxed right now?"_

"_Honestly? I think it hasn't really hit me yet," he answered with a shrug. "I'm sure I'll be a complete wreck soon enough. Now, come over here to me." She walked back into his arms without hesitation._

_And that was how the first response personnel found them, holding each other tightly in front of the open door to the dark apartment. Jane barely raised his head in acknowledgement to the first questions of the arriving police officers, still concentrating almost entirely on Lisbon._

_They were there for hours, long into the night. The lights of the emergency vehicles flashed over and over. The other residents of the apartment complex eventually began to peer out of their windows and doors, wondering what had happened. Wondering what the police were doing there in the first place, and why they still hadn't left._

_Jane stood silently to the side as Lisbon shifted back into cop mode when making her statement, his lack of involvement completely unlike him. When he heard her going through the exact same information for the fourth time, however, his patience ran out._

"_Officer… Green," Jane said, peering at the man's badge, "Agent Lisbon has been extremely cooperative so far, up to and including giving you her statement four times over in precisely the format you'll need to turn it into an official report. But it is now three in the morning. My wife is very tired and very pregnant, and unless you are planning to hold us, we're leaving."_

"_Sir, anytime there's a shooting it's a long and involved process," the officer said._

_Jane sighed. "I'm aware of that, believe me. But is my wife actually being detained?"_

"_Well, no, but-"_

"_Then we're leaving now. We've been here for six hours; it's time for us to let you do your jobs," Jane said, and the note of finality in his voice stifled any further argument._

"_You have our other address, officer, when you need to contact us further," Lisbon added in an exhausted tone. "Goodnight."_

###

Jane shook his head slightly at the memory. He knew in hindsight that he'd still been very much in shock at that point, despite his apparent grip on the situation. It had taken another hour after they'd arrived at his apartment, after Lisbon had showered and come out in her huge green bath sheet, until he'd lost it. She had calmed down drastically by that time, so their situation was reversed once more.

He only dimly remembered shaking with sobs as the resolution to the better part of a decade's worth of revenge got through to him. Lisbon's cool hands had carefully undressed him, and once dry she'd let her towel simply slip to the floor, temporarily forgotten.

There wasn't any hesitation or awkwardness to her movements as she got into the bed and pulled him in after her. They didn't speak. They both understood implicitly the reason for their nakedness: neither one could bear the distance of even a layer of cloth between them after the events of that night.

He'd started with his ear pressed over her heart, but eventually ended up with his chest against her back and his arm thrown over her. Their hands were linked over their unborn daughter when they were finally able to get to sleep.

###

Jane checked his cell phone for the time, and then raised his voice. "Come on, baby, time to stop playing and go!" He got up and started walking towards where she was now, ankle-deep in the sand box.

"Noooooooo," came the expected answering cry from Willow as she struggled to stand and pouted.

She was a tough and willful child, insisting on her own way and on doing things her parents weren't quite sure she was ready for. He wasn't sure whom she got that from more, Lisbon or him. But the charming smile of hers that melted her father, her mother and every babysitter they'd ever used? He egotistically figured she inherited that from him.

"I told you we could only stay for a while, Willow. Time's up," he said, mock sternness coloring his statement.

Willow wasn't fooled for a minute. She knew Daddy was wrapped around her little finger, and stopped pouting to try a different tactic. She looked up at him with his eyes and smiled prettily. "Please? No?"

Jane sighed; what a charmer she was already. He'd definitely have to watch out when she got older. He decided to coax her instead. "Well, I **suppose** I could let you stay here and play more by yourself. You're a big three-year-old girl now, right?"

"Uh-huh," Willow readily agreed, nodding.

"But it seems like an awful shame, because I'm leaving to go see Mommy," Jane continued, and watched the change in Willow's face with amusement.

"Mommy!" she squealed, and immediately went to him and lifted her arms. She laughed as Jane swung her up and onto his hip.

"That's right, sweetie. Time to go pick up Mommy for lunch," he said, and carried her back to the car. As he buckled her into her car seat and she babbled happily, he thought about what a mama's girl Willow had turned out to be. No one who knew Jane and Lisbon would've expected it; even Jane himself had been surprised at the depth of her devotion. But the women in this family had a habit of surprising him. He'd never forget what Lisbon was like when they'd first brought Willow home.

###

_Jane had accepted that most of Lisbon's true tenderness towards the people she loved came in the form of actions, not words. While he used numerous terms of endearment for her, she still called him simply "Patrick" 99% of the time. The times she'd called him something else… well, most were unrepeatable. Once she'd absently said "Could you hand me down that pot from the top shelf, babe?" and he'd been so shocked that he'd dropped it with a loud clang._

_When their daughter was born, however, Jane wondered if she would change that. He knew how much Lisbon adored their baby; it was obvious to everyone from the light in her eyes. But when she referred to the child, it was always as "Willow" or "the baby". He, on the other hand, had a dozen baby nicknames for her in the first twenty-four hours of her life, including "my little Weeping Willow" during a particularly long crying jag. Lisbon had rolled her eyes at him._

_The first evening they brought her home from the hospital, Jane watched Lisbon walk with difficulty around the rather crowded apartment. Their house hunting would hopefully be more successful now with the little bundle of added motivation currently nestled in his arms. He went to the crib beside their bed and settled Willow down to sleep._

_In the middle of the night, Willow began to cry. Jane groaned as he got up; this was the third time. Lisbon squinted at him in the darkness and said, "What's wrong? Does she need to be changed?"_

_Jane went over to the crib. "No," he answered after a short pause. "She's clean and dry."_

"_She can't be hungry again already, can she? Maybe she's just complaining," Lisbon wondered._

_He snickered. "Babies cry, dear."_

"_I know that, Patrick. I did have three younger brothers, you know!" she snapped in response. She leaned over and switched on the lamp on the bedside table. "Bring her over to me," she said, her voice and expression softening as she moved to sit up in their bed._

_He leaned down and carefully picked Willow up, the rising crescendo of her wails making his ears ring. "Come on, sweetie, let's go see Mommy," he cooed at her before kissing her soft dark hair._

_As Jane placed Willow in Lisbon's arms, he watched to see what she would do. Would she let that inner softness of hers shine through at a time like this? Or would she be a less affectionate, tougher mother figure? He honestly wasn't sure._

_But he couldn't contain his surprised smile when she began to sing._

_Lisbon positioned Willow carefully in her arms and started softly, "Come to me, my melancholy baby. Cuddle up and don't be blue…" Jane observed with equal parts amazement and adoration as Willow blinked confusedly up at her mother and quieted down after only a few notes. Lisbon tested to see if she wanted to nurse, and Willow latched on instantly._

–_So she __**was**__ hungry again, after all,- Jane thought. But even that was a muted background musing compared to the wonder at seeing Lisbon gently rocking a busily feeding Willow as she went through all she knew of "My Melancholy Baby". _

_Her voice was husky with sleep, or perhaps the lack thereof, and she wasn't precisely on key. But right then, sitting on the edge of the bed looking at his family, it was the most beautiful thing Jane had ever heard. _

_He knew that they would be splitting the singing-to-the-baby duty from now on, if he had anything to say about it._

_And he also knew that Willow would never have to wonder about her mother's love._

###

The drive to the CBI wasn't very long, but Willow had fallen asleep during it. Jane smiled at her little dozing figure; she had the ability to drop off nearly at once nearly anywhere if she was tired. Once he'd parked, he carefully unbuckled and lifted her up into his arms and carried her, still sleeping, into the building.

He gently swayed and hummed along absently with the soft music in the elevator as it sped them upward. Her curls brushed his cheek as he shifted her slightly before walking into the bullpen. "Hi all," he said quietly.

"Hey Jane. Awww, how cute," Van Pelt said, melting at the sight of the sleeping Willow. She was carrying herself just a little differently than yesterday, and Jane took in her entire appearance to work out why. In less than a second his eyes lit on a rather spectacular engagement ring. So _that's_ what it was.

Jane grinned and whispered, "Rigsby finally worked up the courage, hmm?" while staring pointedly at her left hand.

Van Pelt blushed furiously. "Shut up, Jane," she said with a smile, turning back to her monitor. After a minute, she nodded for his benefit. "You and the boss knew?"

Jane smiled enigmatically and walked through to Lisbon's office. He pulled open the door with his free hand and stood in the doorway for a moment, watching her work.

She was lovelier than ever in his eyes. Every day she found a new way to be beautiful. Today's current flavor was: hungry, irritated with him (both of which he'd become very familiar with over the years) and heavily pregnant with their second child (that was a relatively new development in her arsenal of attraction).

He must have stood there staring in quiet admiration for a little too long, because she finally glanced up at him and frowned. "Don't you give me that look, Patrick," she grumbled.

His mouth opening to form the first consonant sound of 'what' was cut off by her raised finger and slightly raised voice. "And don't give me 'what look', either!"

Jane smiled at her. "Whatever do you mean, Teresa? Help me out, here."

Lisbon scowled briefly. "That's the look you gave me when I said I thought one baby was enough. And where'd it get me? Desk duty for the second time in less than four years, and paperwork up to my eyeballs. Not to mention the fact that _your_ son has been having a boxing match with my bladder for the last hour and a half!"

"Oh no, darling," he said, shaking his head. "If he's already boxing at his age, he's _your_ son. Definitely."

"Hilarious," she snapped, but he could already see the smile she was trying so hard to hide. "This is it. No more babies after this one, and this time I mean it," she said with a stern look in his direction.

"Yes, dear," Jane said dutifully. The twinkle in his eye spoke volumes, however, though Lisbon stubbornly chose to ignore it for the time being.

Willow stirred and lifted her head from Jane's shoulder, blinking dreamily. "Look where we are, sweetie," he said as her chubby hand raised and tugged at his collar.

She looked around and giggled happily at seeing her mother. "Mommy, Mommy," she called, squirming to get down to go to Lisbon.

"Hey now, hang on a minute, caterpillar!" Jane said, struggling to bring her back up to face height. "Willow," he said, his voice full of pretend seriousness.

"What, Daddy?" she asked.

"Would you please go over there and tell your brother to stop giving Mommy such a hard time while she's trying to work?" he asked.

Lisbon chuckled in amusement. She watched as Willow nodded solemnly and was put carefully down. Willow toddled over to her and placed both of her hands on Lisbon's belly. Lisbon smiled warmly as Willow leaned closer and said "Be good to Mommy. She can't put you down yet."

"What does she mean by 'put him down'?" Jane asked his wife, puzzled.

Lisbon lifted Willow with some difficulty and placed her on the desk. "Well Patrick, that's what Willow thinks it means when I told my brothers on the phone that I'm 'carrying' another baby." She started tickling Willow's sides, and they both began to laugh.

Jane stood there, just taking in the scene. He looked at his two (soon to be three) favorite people in the world, and then he started to laugh with them.

He laughed because of unexpected -but no less welcome for it- happiness, entertaining misunderstandings, and Lisbon's overwhelming tolerance that somehow overcame her impatience and irritation every time.

He laughed in spite of guilt that would never quite disappear, still-beloved lives that were cut short so unfairly, and a personal demon that had to be literally put to death before it could be laid to rest.

Jane walked a few short paces and wrapped his arms around his family. And he felt indescribably lucky that he couldn't imagine anything, or anywhere, or anyone he'd rather be.

**The End**


End file.
